


Window of Opportunity

by assassiinikissa



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Character Growth, Character Study, Earth Magic, Emotional Manipulation, Family, Gen, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Picks up where season 2 left off, Plot, Politics, Post-Season/Series 02, Though not that angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2019-11-08 04:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 102,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17974784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassiinikissa/pseuds/assassiinikissa
Summary: Imprisoned, desperate, but not alone, Viren’s connection to the mysterious elf Aaravos strengthens every day. But what hope is there for a High Mage who’s been branded a traitor to his kingdom?A character study and speculation on what happens to Lord Viren after the end of season 2.





	1. Betrayal

There was an ache at Viren's temples, dulling his senses. Viren was familiar with this ache; it was a sign the mage had overexerted himself. A newer and more pressing concern was the discomfort of shackles binding his hands to the prison wall, forcing him to stand up, unable to properly change position. His leg had been haphazardly bandaged where the arrow had pierced his thigh. It was the same leg with the weak knee, and after hours of standing, it was starting to give way under him.

That said, it wasn't the chafing of metal against his wrists, nor the sting in his leg, that had Viren preoccupied at the moment. On the forefront of his mind were the fresh wounds of despair and betrayal.

Viren had done everything - everything! - he could think of for Katolis. For Humanity. And it had all been for nothing. All his efforts, all his hard work, were falling through his fingers like desert sand. Humanity was all but defenseless in the face of the coming war, and he had failed in his attempts to change that.

No, Viren hadn't just failed. He had been fooled. _Betrayed_. He should have known better than to trust an elf, of all things. What had he been thinking?

" _Tcha_ ", someone clicked his tongue disapprovingly. " _You have so little faith in me. I told you: I'll be right here with you._ "

Cold shivers went up Viren's spine. Aaravos' deep, amused voice no longer sounded next to his ear but inside his mind.

"Get out of my head!"

A husky laughter, and the sensation of connection was gone. Viren breathed rapidly, and wondered how he could make sure Aaravos had truly left.

_He can't... He can't hear my thoughts, can he?_

Viren had no idea what were the limits of Aaravos' power - or if there even were any. He knew next to nothing about the enigmatic elf he had allied himself with; only that the other had skills and knowhow of magic superior to anyone he had ever met, superior even to his own.

And this connection that bound them together? What were the limits of that? Viren had no idea. All he knew was that the bond went beyond their ability to communicate with each other. Through it, Viren had been able to channel Aaravos' power and wield incredible primal magics. It had felt like… He had never felt so alive.

But if Viren was able to draw from Aaravos with such ease, who was to say the other mage could not draw from him right back?

A click sounded from the door. Someone opened the lock, and the door to his cell swung open. Viren had to squint his eyes as light poured in from the other room. After blinking a few times, Viren was able to make out the silhouettes of four soldiers of the Crownguard. Two of them had bows on the ready, aimed at him. They all wore matching stern expressions.

The guards scanned the room, trying to see who their prisoner had been talking to. Seeing no one and nothing out of place, they scowled at him. Eventually they left, closing the door and bolting it anew.

Fear and despise had been plain on the guards' faces. Viren swallowed hard, trying not to take it personally. Of course they would despise him now. He had been declared traitor to the kingdom. A dark mage gone rogue.

The scene of the fight felt oddly distant to him now, mere hours later, but Viren remembered he had fought the Guard upon his imminent arrest. He remembered killing them without hesitation or remorse. No, not just without remorse. He remembered relishing in their destruction.

Viren shuddered. Perhaps they were right to fear him.

A soft laughter. Viren's head snapped up. "Show yourself", he growled, but quietly this time, so as not to alert his jailers.

To Viren's immense surprise, Aaravos did. First Viren thought he was imagining seeing that translucent starlight skin, those mesmerizing eyes, and that mysterious smile, but little by little, the mirage became more real. Aaravos was standing in the middle of the dimly-lit prison cell. So close and yet out of reach, as he had always been.

"How...?" Viren breathed in astonishment, but then he noticed the elf was much better lit than anything else in the room, and cast no shadow of his own. "Moonshadow magic", Viren decided. "This is an illusion."

Aaravos smiled. " _You requested my presence, and here I am._ " The voice reverberated inside Viren's head instead of coming from the mouth of the figure standing before him.

White hot rage filled Viren, and he hissed: " _You_. This is all your fault."

The elf cocked his head to the side, but his smile did not falter. " _I_ _am ever your servant. This is but a setback, not the end._ "

Viren both desperately wanted to believe the elf and didn't. He heaved a long sigh, trying to think instead of just acting on his emotions. "Can the guards see you?"

" _No._ " Aaravos shook his head. He took a step forward, and then another. The elf lifted his hand and brushed it lightly against Viren's hand.

To Viren's surprise, the touch was tangible. The hand felt cool, smooth, and surprisingly soft against his skin. Then again, he had heard that Moonshadow magic could fool all the senses, so perhaps he needn't be surprised.

"Why not?" Viren demanded, still unsure about everything, but most of all about what to make of his "servant".

There was a flash of something in the elf's eyes. Annoyance perhaps? The flash vanished too fast for Viren to identify it, replaced by Aaravos' calm, all-knowing smile. " _We are connected._ "

Yes, they were. Viren had a sinking suspicion he'd only began to scratch the surface of what that entailed. He may not like what he'd find once he dug deeper.

Viren bit back all the things he still wanted to scream at the elf, and focused on the essential. "Can you remove the shackles?"

Aaravos lifted his hand to the chains holding Viren, but the hand went straight through them.

"What use are you to me, then?" Viren spat out. He tried to add venom to his words, but ended up sounding mostly just defeated. His brief flicker of hope now extinguished, Viren hung his head to his chin.

Aaravos moved to stand by Viren's side. Aaravos’ hand reached for Viren’s chin, lifting it so they were facing each other. " _Do not give up. I am here. Everything will be as you wish it._ "

"How?" Viren laughed without humor. "They think me a traitor now."

" _Now?_ " Aaravos lifted a quizzical eyebrow, and then sobered: " _They never trusted you._ "

Viren opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out.

Aaravos continued: " _Think about it, and you know my words are true. Have they not always regarded you with suspicion, with worried glances, with fear? You dedicated yourself to their service, gave them everything they could think to ask. You risked your health and chipped off pieces of your soul to cast them the magics they so desperately needed, and to what end? They took the bounty you provided, but never trusted you, because they knew how you came by it._ "

"You're wrong", Viren got out.

Viren knew many in the court had their reservations about him. He had eyes, he'd seen the looks they gave him when they thought he wouldn't notice. However, that fear was born out of ignorance, out of not understanding the kind of magic he wielded. In time, surely, Viren had proven himself to them. If not to the populace, then at least to all those who mattered. Years of unwavering service: it had to count for something!

"King Harrow trusted me. He considered me a _friend_." But the name of his oldest friend tasted bitter on Viren's tongue.

And again with that infuriating raised eyebrow. " _You were useful to him, at times, but also an inconvenience. Something to be ashamed of._ "

"No!" Viren wanted to argue more, he did, but he couldn't quite erase from his mind the phantom words of King Harrow from when they last spoke. Had Harrow said those things in anger, or had he revealed his true feelings towards his advisor? Had Harrow always blamed Viren and his magical solutions for everything that went wrong down the line? When had the King grown to hate his High Mage so? Or had the hate always been there, but Viren had been too trusting to see it?

"No." Viren shook his head, no longer sure which of them he was trying to convince. Aaravos smiled amiably like the matter didn't concern him one way or the other.

The guards opened the door and looked in the cell again. This time they gave Viren a verbal warning to stop whatever he was doing before they locked the door once more.

It seemed Aaravos had not lied about being undetectable; the guards gazes flew right past the elf. No one else could see him.

"Leave", Viren muttered, his usual authority all but gone. It was a command nonetheless.

Aaravos looked surprised, but he smiled, bowed his head, and vanished. 

Viren sighed. Aaravos was wrong. He had to be. But the cell seemed all the more desolate now he was alone.

 

***

 

There was a pattern to Viren’s new existence. Twice a day the guards would come and feed him, arrows pointed at him should he even sneeze the wrong way. During what must have been the night, the shackles were loosened enough that he could sit on the cell floor. Every morning, they forced him on his feet again, and chained him more tightly against the wall.

Several days must have gone by, perhaps closer to a week, but it was hard to stay oriented on the exact passage of time in a windowless cell. The only source of light was the sliver of light shining in from under the door. Viren thought it might be sunlight, but it could just as well be torchlight. For all he could tell, the light was sometimes stronger and sometimes not, but it seemed to never go away entirely.

No one of notice had come to see him. No one but Aaravos. The elf had become a near-constant companion to Viren. Sometimes he remained invisible, but Viren could nonetheless feel him there. Even when visible, most of the time Aaravos only stood there, silent. Viren had to begrudgingly admit that even that little company was of solace to him in his desperate isolation.

His children would return. Viren had full faith in them. They were talented and resourceful, and Claudia was clever. They would complete their missions and make their way home. They would find a way to free their father. Viren had to believe they would. Otherwise he had nothing to look forward to. Stripped of all his magical conduits and ingredients, he could not escape on his own.

Sometimes Aaravos would speak to him. He would tell Viren stories. Never anything personal, just stories of wondrous creatures and places of the old. Viren found himself wondering just how old Aaravos was, but whenever he confronted the elf with questions about his past or purpose, Aaravos remained elusive, and insisted he only existed to serve.

Viren hated himself for not having the strength to press for answers. But he couldn't. He did not want Aaravos to leave him alone.

Aaravos had taken to the habit of standing by Viren's side, and although a mere illusion, his presence felt like the only real thing in the endless wait in the cold, damp cell.

 

***

 

One day the door opened, and it wasn't just the guards. Opeli was there, accompanied by...

"Prince Ezran", Viren breathed, and hated how raspy his voice had become from lack of use.

" _King_ Ezran", Opeli corrected him, her tone stern and full of contempt.

The child, the boy he had personally ordered killed, but who apparently still lived, walked in. Ezran’s expression was serious. More serious than Viren remembered ever seeing it.

Opeli and the Crownguard followed on the boy’s heels. It was quite a few people to cram into the small cell, especially as all Viren's guests avoided stepping too close to him. Viren felt Aaravos materialize by his side, but a quick look around confirmed that the elf remained invisible to everyone else present.

Viren tried not to think too hard about what Ezran's continued existence meant for Soren. Instead he took in a deep breath to steady himself, and looked the young king in the eye.

For just a moment, the child looked... scared, perhaps? What did Viren himself look like right now, anyway? Was the corruption from the overuse of dark magic still visible on him? Probably.

The worry in Ezran’s eyes morphed quickly back into determination. He looked serious, if not entirely unkind.

Ezran addressed him at last: "My High Council informs me that you forged my seal, and acted in my name, and that you killed a lot of people when they tried to arrest you, and that you held my aunt's lieutenant captive."

Viren bit his lip. Ezran hadn't asked him anything, but it was clearly an opening for Viren to plead his case. What should he say? The accusations were all true, and did not even include some of his more heinous plots, such as his plan to have the princes killed, or the shadow assassins he’d sent to terrorize the other human kingdoms.

But Viren had to try, of course.

"I only acted with the Kingdom's best interest at heart." That rang untrue even to his own ears. Towards the end, Viren had acted more out of desperation and spite than any careful planning, so he amended: "At least that's what I believed I was doing."

It suddenly became hard to maintain eye contact with the Pri... the King. With their new King. Truly, was there no one left on the High Council with the guts to demand for a regent? Apparently not.

A thought occurred to Viren, and he probably should have said nothing, but he could not stop himself from asking: "My children, where are they? Are they...? They had no part in my plans."

Well, at least Claudia and Soren had had no part in _deciding_ his plans.

"That's not what we heard from Commander Gren", Opeli replied venomously, but King Ezran lifted his hand in a gesture to keep quiet.

Right. Commander Gren. His prisoner. So they had found a way into his secret chamber and rescued Gren. How much did the man know? How much had he seen?

Viren tried to think quickly. He really should have been better prepared for an interrogation, but he had somehow no longer expected one. He'd assumed the Council would either execute him promptly, or leave him to rot here indefinitely.

"I believe you", little Ezran said. Opeli opened her mouth to protest, but Ezran clarified: "I believe Claudia and Soren had no part in this. I mean, I know you sent them to bring me and Callum home by force, and that wasn’t nice, but that was when everyone thought we'd been kidnapped."

A surprisingly large weight was lifted off Viren's shoulders upon hearing those words. Larger than he'd realized he'd been carrying. In hindsight, it had been reckless of him to incriminate his children so thoroughly in his schemes, but that had been when he thought he would get away with it all.

Opeli still looked like she was going to argue that point with Ezran, but apparently she decided to save it for later.

Ezran looked unsure for a moment before going on: "Lieutenant Gren told us you had a Moonshadow Elf as a prisoner, but that you did something to him. What did you do?"

Viren glanced to his side to see what Aaravos was thinking of all this. The elf looked calm. He even smiled encouragingly at Viren.

"I..." Viren wasn't sure what he should say, nor how much he could make himself be understood. "Yes, I had the leader of the Moonshadow Elf assassins as my personal prisoner. He would not give me the information I needed, so as a punishment I... I used dark magic to subdue him."

Ezran looked very serious. "What does that mean?"

"What does it matter?" Viren genuinely wasn't sure why this was important. Was the kid sorry he couldn't exact vengeance personally on the elf who had come all this way to kill his father? That didn't seem quite right, but what, then?

"Tell me what you did to him", Ezran demanded.

Absentmindedly Viren glanced at Aaravos again, but the elf’s face was as unreadable as ever.

"I used an old and powerful ritual to bind his essence to a coin." It seemed almost anticlimactic to just out and say it, but it was the truth, and there seemed little point in hiding it.

Everyone in the room blinked at him. They looked as if they couldn't believe what they had just heard.

Ezran was the first to snap out of it. Horrified, he asked: "A coin?"

Viren nodded.

"Where is this coin now?" Opeli demanded to know, but Viren didn't have time to answer her before Ezran spoke again: "Can it be... um... undone? Can the spell be reversed?"

It could. Why bother trapping someone in a limbo if the effect was exactly the same as killing them. That would have been a serious misuse of resources.

Viren’s prisoner had not been afraid to die, so to loosen his tongue, Viren had had to find a creative solution to remind the assassin that there were fates worse than death. The real question was: why was Ezran so eager to free the elf?

"Pri... King Ezran, with all due respect, that elf came to your home to murder your father. He killed many of your soldiers. He would have killed you too, given the chance." It seemed almost too obvious to say out loud, but somehow Viren felt it needed to be said anyway.

"I know that", Ezran said quietly. The boy looked very sad for a moment. "But revenge and violence only create more revenge and violence, and it just never ends."

Viren had to hold himself in check to _not_ roll his eyes at that. This was exactly the kind of childish naivety he had feared from their new child-king. The kind of naivety that had made it necessary to get rid of the boy, for the good of the Kingdom, though clearly Soren had failed to deliver on that for some reason.

"It's like with the Dragon Prince", Ezran continued, and Viren was interested, "it was very wrong of you to steal him. He's just a kid, and he belongs with his mother."

It took longer than it should have for the implications to sink in. "What? The egg has hatched?"

Ezran nodded, still very serious.

"And the mirror?" Opeli asked. "What is the mirror used for?"

The mirror. Finally they were asking the truly important questions.

"Commander Gren said you spent many nights alone in a room that had little else in it than that magic mirror", Opeli pestered him.

Now it was Aaravos who made eye contact with Viren. Perhaps he was wondering what all Viren would tell them? The elf did not look worried, though.

Viren no longer felt like he owed these people an explanation. None of them were mages; their chances of figuring the mirror out on their own were fleeting at best. Unless Aaravos made himself known to them on purpose, and Viren doubted the elf would, although, of course, he could not be absolutely sure...

" _I am with you. I will remain hidden if it's what you wish._ "

Viren startled a little when he heard Aaravos’ voice inside his head. It was as good as proof that his thoughts were no longer private.

Viren could only hope his interrogators would think little of him flinching like that. Perhaps they thought he was losing his focus due to sleep deprivation. Or possibly just losing his mind. Viren was fairly certain the guards posted at his door considered him a few marbles short, and they may have reported as much to their superiors.

Viren was very tired, and found it hard to concentrate. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling as such: Viren had a habit of getting lost in his research when planning a new experiment. Sometimes he would sleep very little for weeks on end. But he was no longer young, and such things affected him more these days.

There were more questions after that, but Viren couldn't quite follow people's motivations anymore, so he elected to remain silent. Then again, he might as well try to plead his case one more time.

"King Ezran. A war is coming. A war between elves and humans, and my fear is that we are not ready for such a war. We won't win. I can already smell the ash and smoke that will rise from Katolis' villages and towns as they are burnt to the ground. I can already hear people's dying screams. I know you are young and have not seen war, but I have, and I assure you, the threat is real. We must do all we can to prepare for it."

What else could he say.

Ezran looked at him seriously, though the look was somewhat unconvincing on a face so young. "No. I don't believe that. I believe we can find a peaceful solution."

Viren felt what little hope was left in him drain away completely. Katolis was sure to fall to her enemies under the rule of King Ezran.

A part of Viren wished he had sent his children on a completely different mission, far from the border to Xadia. Perhaps to see their mother. There, they would have been safe when the flames of war scorched Katolis.

Viren lifted his gaze. His desperation and despise must have been visible on his face, judging by the mild horror and contempt on the faces of everyone else in the room. Viren found that he didn't particularly care. Either they'd execute him, or the elves would, once they arrived. Neither death promised to be quick.

Opeli advised King Ezran that they should leave further interrogating to experts. Ezran seemed unsure, but was eventually persuaded to leave. The cell door closed and locked behind them.

"I need to get out of here", Viren whispered to Aaravos, who simply nodded. "Any ideas?"

 

***

 

Despite her young age, Queen Aanya had experience dealing with threats against her Kingdom. Well, mostly it had been threats against her, specifically. Either way, she had experience dealing with threats, and as far as she knew, the same logic applied to both kinds: better safe than sorry.

A shadowy figure had been haunting the streets of Duren’s capital for many nights. That wasn’t the sort of rumor Aanya took lightly, and so she had ordered the Captain of her Queen’s Guard to investigate the matter personally.

Her caution had been warranted, as the Guard soon reported that their mystery enemy appeared to be a Moonshadow Elf assassin.

Tonight the elf had finally been tracked down and put to the sword. So to speak. Apparently physical attacks had been useless against the mysterious assailant, but her High Mage was eventually able to trap and destroy it.

The immediate threat had now been dealt with, but Aanya was still not satisfied with the outcome. Something in this picture did not sit right with her.

The assassin, or rather his weapons, for that was all that remained of him, were laid out on the palace floor for the young queen to inspect. According to the Captain of the Queen's Guard, the assassin had been an elf, and most likely one of the dreaded Moonshadow Elves. Curiously enough, upon his death, the figure had dissolved in a cloud of smoke.

Aanya picked up the weapons the assassin had left behind. They were undeniably elvenmade, but the whole thing was about as convincing as Lord Viren’s shadow puppets at the Meeting of the Pentarchy.

In other words, the situation stank of dark magic, and to her knowledge, elves did not use dark magic. Not that Aanya didn’t already have another suspect in mind.

“I think it is high time I pay a visit to our ‘allies’ in Katolis”, the Queen announced. She would get to the bottom of this.


	2. Infection

_Viren walked briskly through the castle, one corridor after another. He glanced around, hoping no one would see him. So far no one had. The castle was silent and devoid of live._

_Viren was halfway up a narrow staircase when he realized where his legs were taking him: the King’s Tower. Harrow’s bedroom._

King Harrow? Yes, that’s where I should go,  _Viren thought frantically._ Harrow will help me.

_Viren ran the last few steps, and reached the top of the stairs. There was a pair of massive wooden doors in front of him, but luckily still no guards in sight. Viren pushed the doors open._

_King Harrow’s bedroom was empty. Viren couldn’t understand why._ “ _...Harrow?_ ”

_Viren stepped in to take a better look around. Thick curtains covered all the windows and the doors to the balcony, but otherwise nothing looked out of place. No sign of an attack, or a struggle, or an evacuation. Just empty._

“ _Harrow!_ ” _Viren called out. He had a sinking feeling that he should have known the room would come up empty, but Viren didn’t want to think about that. Instead he called out one last time._ “ _HARROW!_ ”

_Not even an echo answered his cry._

_Viren ran his fingers through his hair. He straightened his coat, and turned to leave, but his foot hit something. Viren looked down and saw that it was King Harrow’s lifeless body._

No. Not lifeless, _Viren realized._ Just in want of a soul. This is… I did this.

_Something moved in the shadows at the edge of Viren’s vision. Viren turned to point his staff at whatever was trying to sneak up on him, but to his horror, he discovered the room was gone. Nothing remained but shadows, and an angry hissing sound._

_Viren was no longer holding his staff but a two-headed black snake. The snake twisted in his grasp, two sets of endless black eyes turning to stare at him._

Like looking in a mirror, _Viren thought._

_The snake launched forward and bit him in the leg._

 

***

 

“Aaahh!” Viren yelped and gasped for air. He tried to reach for his leg, to see how bad it was, but the chains did not give way.

“ _Calm down_ ”, a deep and measured voice said. Viren’s head snapped up. He tried to identify the direction the sound had come from, only to realize it came from inside his own head. The fast movement left his head spinning nonetheless, and for a moment it felt like the whole world swayed under him.

Viren felt like he was going to be sick.

From the shadows materialized a familiar elf mage.

“You!” Viren gasped, and then frowned. “How did you get out of the mirror?”

Aaravos had been regarding him with a calm, absent-minded smile on his lips, but now his eyes narrowed in concern. “ _We have been through this already._ ”

Yes. Yes, they had. Why was it so hard for him to concentrate? The room still swayed uncomfortably.

Aaravos lifted his star-filled hand to Viren’s forehead. For some reason, despite the years of enmity between humans and elves, Viren did not flinch away from his touch.

“ _You’re burning up_ ”, Aaravos said softly. “ _Your wound. It’s become infected. That is why you are so delirious._ ”

“Infected!” Viren scoffed. “That’s not possible. I have _never_ been infected. I have potions for that. I have _spells_ for that.”

Aaravos nodded absently, but suddenly he bent over, and his cool hand was on Viren’s thigh. Now, Viren did flinch, even though he wasn’t sure whether Aaravos had actually touched him or not.

“ _They cleaned your wound before bringing you here_ ”, Aaravos went on matter-of-factly. “ _But it seems you’ve managed to tear it open since then._ ”

 _An infected wound?_ Viren thought to himself. His head felt sluggish, but he managed to determine that Aaravos was probably right.

“I’ve… I’ve treated infections before”, Viren said, to break the silence more than anything.

“ _Is that so?_ ” Aaravos replied in a courteous but flat tone. His eyes were still examining Viren’s leg.

Viren nodded. “After the battle, there were wounded soldiers. They couldn’t be treated properly on-site, and it was a long walk to the nearest town.”

The kneeling elf finally looked up at him. “ _And what battle would that have been?_ ”

Viren laughed a short, humorless bark. “Any. Any one of those where we fought your kind. Take a pick.”

Aaravos did not look offended. Instead he smiled at Viren. “ _There are no others like me._ ”

The elf seemed to be serious. Viren had to look away from the intensity of Aaravos’ shining golden eyes.

“I…” Viren hesitated. “I can fix this, but I need ingredients.”

“ _You have something better: me._ ”

Viren’s eyebrows shot up. “You can cast at me all the way from the mirror? Then what are you waiting for? Why haven’t we escaped yet?”

But Aaravos was shaking his head. “ _I can lend you my power, but I cannot cast it for you. You’ll have to do that yourself._ ”

“Of course”, Viren huffed. “I’ll just wave my hands like this.” The chains rattled. “Draw a Healing Rune like this.” More rattling. “And say the incantation like so.”

Viren said the right words for the right healing spell, but he felt only the tiniest residual spark of magic in his words. His leg felt no different.

Viren looked down and grimaced. That was the thing about magic: there was almost always more than one component needed for a spell. Even using dark magic did not let you skip those stages. More so with dark magic than with any other kind of magic, Viren reckoned.

“A shortcut my ass…” Viren muttered to himself.

Aaravos looked curious, but did not ask.

Viren glanced at the door. He was a little surprised that the guards had not come in to tell him to stop whatever he was doing. A moment passed, and then another, and still there was no one at the door.

 _What if… What if the castle is empty? What if everyone is gone and they left me behind?_ A shiver went down Viren’s spine as his thoughts returned to his dream.

As if sensing his discomfort, Aaravos stepped closer and touched Viren’s hand. “ _I wish there was more I could do to ease your pain._ ”

Viren was genuinely surprised by the kindness and affection in those words. Very few people in his entire lifetime had said something so kind to him and meant it. Perhaps he had been wrong to blame the elf for their current predicament.

“Have the guards been to see me?” Viren asked, trying to keep his voice down.

Aaravos shook his head. Viren frowned. “Why not? They must have heard me talking to someone.”

Aaravos looked thoughtful. “ _W_ _ _ell_ , you have been quite vocal for some time now. Perhaps they think you are still talking in your sleep?_”

Viren blinked. Twice. Then he gulped. “I was talking in my sleep? What did I say?”

“ _Just one word, over and over. A name. ‘Harrow’._ ” Aaravos’ eyes were unreadable once more.

 _Harrow._ Thinking the name over was like plunging a dagger into his own heart. The pain had been easier to bear when Viren had been busy keeping Katolis running, busy moving from one daring plan to the next. In the solitude of his cell, there was no escape.

Viren had always had a hard time forming meaningful connections with others. He cared about humanity and about Katolis, he truly did, but it was hard for him to care about any individual person in it.

Harrow had believed in Viren in ways few people ever had. Harrow hadn’t assumed the worst of him merely based on his predilection for dark magic. In Harrow’s company, Viren could be himself, think out loud, say whatever came to his mind, and Harrow still wouldn’t look at him like he was a monster.

Most people would have called Viren calculative, heartless, maybe even cruel, but Harrow never used those words.

They had not always agreed, it was true. Sometimes they had clashed badly over their differing views on how a situation should be handled, but even when Harrow questioned Viren’s methods, he had not questioned Viren’s motivations.

King Harrow had understood that Viren was trying to make the world as good as possible for as large a number of people as possible. Sometimes that required making hard, unpopular choices. Just because Viren was the only one brave enough to suggest them out loud did not mean he was wrong.

For all these years, Harrow had believed the best out of Viren, and that had meant everything to him. It had made him want to be a better man, be worthy of Harrow’s trust. Otherwise Viren might have decided a long time ago that if no one was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, he might as well act like the monster they made him out to be. Whatever got the job done, consequences be damned. 

Not unlike the way he had been acting after Harrow’s funeral, but that could not be helped. Too much was at stake. All of humanity was on the brink, and they needed a savior more than they needed a king. It was now Viren’s turn to rule, and Harrow’s turn to watch from the sidelines.

Viren’s eyes opened wide. “The bird. Do you know who has the bird now?”

How could he have overlooked something so vital? What if the bird wasn’t cared for? It was his responsibility, as no one else knew just how important he was. Viren had told no one, not even his children, of what he had done that fateful moonlit night. His greatest crime, committed in the name of love.

Aaravos lifted one eyebrow in question. “ _The bird... from your study?_ ”

“Yes! That bird!” Viren yelled impatiently, and then asked in a whisper: “Do you think someone has been… feeding him?”

At that, Aaravos laughed.

 

***

 

“Did any of you gentlemen or ladies catch that last bit?” Commander Gren looked up from his notes and whispered to the guards standing around him. Gren had resigned himself to sitting on the floor days ago, but the men and women who had actual orders to stand guard outside Lord Viren’s cell apparently felt it was their duty to do so on their feet. Therefore Gren had to twist his neck a bit awkwardly to see their expressions. “After that bit about the bird, that is?”

The nearest guard shrugged at him. Gren smiled and nodded his silent thanks. He marked in his notes that the prisoner had said something, but that he had been unable to hear what. He wanted the record to be as accurate as possible, after all.

After a pause, Lord Viren’s voice went on on the other side of the thick wooden door: “What?! And you saw this happen? Why didn’t you say something before now?!”

Commander Gren scribbled it down. His handwriting was far below the usual standards of reporting, but he would make a copy in a cleaner hand later.

“Are you sure?”

Scribble. Pause.

“Of course I didn’t see him fly away. I was busy being arrested!”

Scribble. Pause.

“You don’t need to know why he is important, only that he is.”

Commander Gren waited a long time after that, straining his ears in case Lord Viren had merely lowered his voice, but he couldn’t hear anything else going on on the other side of the door.

Gren put his pen down and let out a quiet yawn. The sun had only barely risen outside. It was still very early in the morning.

Gren was pleased with his decision to arrive at his self-assigned post a little earlier than usual. To think of all the ramblings he might have missed out on if he'd still been asleep! The guards would have told him a condensed version of things, but they never remembered all the specifics, and sometimes their versions even differed.

After his release from Lord Viren’s dungeon, Commander Gren had immediately sent a crow to General Amaya, informing her of everything that had happened in the capital in her absence. He’d sent her a second crow after King Ezran’s sudden return and prompt coronation. Amaya’s answer had been short: “Protect the new king, and keep an eye on Viren. He’s not the type to go down without a fight.”

The note worried Gren. First, because it was so short. Usually the General had more to say to him, but she must have been in a hurry. Second, the fact that Amaya was not riding for the capital right away meant that something dangerous was going on at the border. That said, General Amaya had trusted Gren to be her representative in the capital, to act as her eyes and ears as well as her mouth, and Gren was not planning to let her down. 

Gren had considered assigning himself as King Ezran’s personal bodyguard, but that had seemed a bit superfluous. The king already had the Crownguard and Corvus by his side at all times, so Gren had chosen to focus on his other standing order instead, and had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on the former High Mage. Well, an ear on him, if you will.

Gren had planned to make a series of visits to Lord Viren’s cell to speak with the man, but he’d been informed that professional interrogators had already paid the High Mage several visits, and that during said visits, Viren had been terse. Luckily one of the guards happened to mention to Gren that when Viren was alone, he was pretty big on talking to himself.

The Commander had his doubts at first about how much he would be able to learn about Viren’s plans simply by eavesdropping on him, but it had turned out to be a surprisingly effective means of retrieving information.

In retrospect, even Gren's own time chained to a wall in a hidden dungeon had been a goldmine of knowledge. In every cloud, there truly was a silver lining.

More and more light poured into the hallway from a window at the end of the corridor, and there was still nothing going on in Lord Viren’s cell. Commander Gren took out a new sheet of paper, and started making a neater copy of Viren’s latest outburst. Good to get it all down while it was still fresh on his mind, in case even he would not be able to understand his own notations later.

After a moment of quiet, diligent writing, Gren was happy with the final record. He had a great deal of trust in its accuracy; his years of working as an interpreter had made him keen on word choice and emphasis, and here he had the benefit of being able to take notes while he listened.

The Commander stood up, and quietly addressed the woman who was in charge of the shift: “It sounds like Lord Viren’s injury might be getting worse.”

The soldier nodded, and asked equally quietly: “Want me to do something about that right away, sir?”

Gren thought that over. Viren was their prisoner, and it was their duty - not to mention the right thing to do - to make sure he wasn’t in needless pain. That said, Gren wasn’t ready to let Viren know how keenly they were keeping an ear to his door. “Next time you go in to see him, take a closer look at how he is faring. If you deem that he doesn’t look too good, then you get a healer for him.”

The soldier made a small salute.

Truly, it would have been safer to talk in sign language - there would have been no chance of Viren overhearing them - but alas, the Crownguard were not as fluent in sign language as General Amaya’s commanding staff was. 

Now that Gren was up, he decided to stretch his legs a bit. Gren took the newest record with him and reread while he took a small stroll around the dungeons.

This record felt important. More important than the ones before it. Different, somehow.

By now the Commander had a stack of short and sometimes a bit longer conversations piled on his desk, but most of them made very little sense. When he’d asked the guards about their opinion on the matter, they had confessed that although the talking had creeped them out at first, they had grown used to it by now.

The cell had been searched many times, and never had anyone seen even a shadow out of place. No one but Lord Viren himself, apparently.

The guards thought the High Mage was losing it, and they could be right. However, Gren no longer thought so. Lord Viren wasn’t mad. Well, Lord Viren was almost certainly at least a bit mad, but that didn’t mean that his monologues had no rhyme or reason to them. Gren was sure they only seemed that way because they were actually dialogues, and he was only hearing one half of the conversation.

 _He’s definitely talking to someone_ , Gren thought to himself. The real question was: was that someone real or imaginary, and if they were real, who was Viren talking to?

Gren’s best guess so far was that it was Lord Viren’s daughter, Claudia, but he was only about 25% sure of that. If it was Claudia, it would explain why the conversations veered so often towards the esoteric. On the other hand, Viren had never spoken Claudia’s name, and overall, the conversations weren't particularly familial. Viren's word choices were the sort you would use when speaking with a stranger or a distant acquaintance. 

Viren’s latest outburst had started with him repeatedly calling for King Harrow. That made Gren frown. There were few other potential explanations for that than dream or delirium, and if the man was so out of it that he thought he saw his dead friend, that cast a rather large shadow of doubt on everything else Gren had heard Viren say this morning.

Then again, the things Viren had said _after_ calling out the former king’s name seemed to hold a great deal more meaning. For example, Viren had mentioned the mirror twice.

Gren was convinced the mirror was very important. First, because he had heard the imprisoned elf assassin describe it as “worse than death”. Second, Viren had been obsessed with the mirror the entire time he’d had Gren as his prisoner.

Viren had gone to see the mirror every day, and sometimes spent days on end with it. When Viren left the room where the mirror was, sometimes he had walked angrily, like a man frustrated by his lack of progress. Other times, he had walked like he had just seen something truly troubling, and had a lot on his mind.

Viren had mentioned the mirror a few times in the time Gren had been eavesdropping on him, but only in passing. Now for the first time his words seemed to reveal something about the mirror: if not what it was or what all it could do, at least something about how it operated.

“ _How did you get out of the mirror?_ ” So, the mirror was something a person could enter and exit. That was interesting, but not as interesting as the second mention: “ _You can cast at me all the way from the mirror? Then what are you waiting for? Why haven’t we escaped yet?_ ”

Actually, that last bit didn't tell Gren much about the mirror, as such, but it did say quite a bit about who Viren was talking to: the other person was a mage. Whether real or a figment of Viren’s imagination, Lord Viren believed he was talking to a fellow magic user, and it was someone Viren trusted to help him escape.

At this point, Gren was willing to raise the odds of that person being Claudia to at least 50%. Even so, he had a feeling he was still overlooking something obvious.

 _There!_ Gren thought, as he reread the part where Viren was talking about treating infections after a battle.

“ _Any one of those where we fought your kind. Take a pick._ ”

Without context, that sentence was virtually meaningless. However, based on what Gren knew of Viren…

“He’s talking to an elf”, Gren whispered to himself. “Could also be a dragon”, he amended sheepishly, though he couldn’t readily imagine how one might fit a dragon in a mirror that size...

Gren stopped in his tracks. It felt like his heart had skipped a beat.

All this time, they had assumed Viren had either been working alone, or with the help of his children, but what if Viren had had help from a far more unforeseeable source?

If Viren had mystery allies, those allies were still at large. Moreover, there was now at least a 75% chance that the person Lord Viren was communicating with was an elf. Also, it seemed more and more likely Viren wasn’t just talking to himself, but with a real person through magic of some kind. A magic that almost certainly had something to do with the mysterious mirror.

 _Viren is working with the elves?_ It sounded impossible to believe, even now, even after all the other things the mage had done, but if there was even the slightest chance that it was the truth... The repercussions could be catastrophic. The possibility was too daunting to be dismissed outright.

_King Ezran needs to learn of this at once._


	3. Visitor

A row of large windows let the weak morning sun into the Throne Room. That light wasn’t strong enough by itself yet, so tall candlesticks were lit all around the table.

High Priestess Opeli was furious. She had hoped that once the traitorous High Mage was removed from office, the rest of the Council would fall in line. While it was true that King Ezran’s orders and edicts so far had been… unexpected, he was still their king.

“It is not the Council’s place to question the king’s decisions, only to execute them”, she reminded the other councilmembers, and crossed her arms defensively.

“And we will do exactly that”, Chancellor Kuran said in a placating tone. “But how exactly does our king expect us to ‘stop the war between humans and elves’?”

At these words, the chancellor turned to address the young king, who was standing on a small stool to better see the map they had gathered around. “No such war has officially been declared, nor is it likely it will be declared in a formal way. More assassins in the dark, perhaps, but I doubt we can negotiate with those.”

Opeli knew Kuran wasn’t wrong. Out of all the human kingdoms, Katolis had the largest shared border with Xadia, but that did not translate into diplomatic capital. Katolis did not have, and had never had, any kind of ambassador to Xadia. Apart from the reckless quests King Harrow and Lord Viren had occasionally undertaken on the Xadian side of the border, Katolis had had no dealings with the Xadians that did not involve an armed conflict of one form or another.

“It is noble of our king to want peace with the elves”, Kuran went on in a polite tone, still addressing King Ezran directly, “but the elves have given no indication of wanting the same, and that is not even touching on the topic of dragons, who seem no longer content with merely looming across our skies, if the reports are to be believed.”

”The dragon didn’t attack just because she wanted to”, King Ezran spoke. ”She was upset because she thought we’d killed the Dragon Prince.”

Kuran deadpanned. ”That may well be so, Your Majesty, but the fact of the matter is that we did kidnap the Dragon Prince, and we killed the Dragon King. As justified as their anger might feel to them, there is little we can do to escape those realities after the fact.”

The other councilmembers nodded their support for what Kuran had said. Opeli opened her mouth to chastise them, but King Ezran spoke first.

”Yes, there is. Once my brother and Rayla return Zym to his mother, there will be no need for a war.”

”With all due respect”, began Councilman Tedrec, ”but how can we be sure this gesture will be enough to appease the dragons? Or the elves, for that matter?”

They did not have time to hear the king’s answer, as there was a loud knock on the doors to the Throne Room, and a messenger burst in. The messenger knelt before King Ezran. He had ran the whole way up the tower, it seemed, and was panting heavily.

“Your Majesty. There is a visitor for you. A royal visitor. Queen Aanya of Duren has arrived, unannounced, and requests an immediate audience.”

All the councilmembers exchanged concerned looks. The young Queen of Duren had never before visited the Kingdom of Katolis. Her presence here now was most unexpected.

King Ezran looked to his Council. ”We won’t do anything to upset the people of Xadia, and we will make peace with them. But first, I’ll meet with the queen.”

Everyone bowed their heads at their king, and started quick preparations for the reception of their surprise visitor.

 

***

 

Ezran turned to look at himself in a mirror that was hanging on the wall. He tried to tame his hair by squashing it with his hands, but his efforts didn't really leave a lasting effect. Normally Ezran didn't mind his hair - or what he looked like overall - but he had a feeling he needed to look particularly presentable for the first royal visitor to his kingdom.

On the up side, no one had had time to adjust the crown, and it would have fit him even worse without all the hair. As it was, it rested more on his hair than his head, but at least it was steady. Sort of. Steady enough that it wouldn't fall off his head, and clank down the stairs, and everyone wouldn't turn to look at him like he was a complete idiot and...

Ezran closed his eyes, pressed his hands on his temples, and shook his head. He needed to snap out of it.

 _I really wish Callum was here_ , the boy hoped, and not for the first time since his return to Katolis. _Callum would know what to do. He always does._

_Or, better yet: I wish I was wherever Callum and Rayla and Zym are. Xadia must be such a fun adventure._

Unlike ruling, it turned out. Being king was nowhere near as much fun as Ezran had always imagined it to be, but he had to do it anyway, because the adults didn’t take making peace with the people of Xadia seriously. Someone had to show them the way, and there really wasn’t anyone else volunteering for the job.

Ezran opened his eyes. Nope, there was nothing to be done about the hair, or the crown.

Ezran frowned, and the mirror version of him frowned back at him. He hadn't worn the crown after his coronation. It just felt wrong to wear his dad's crown. It should have been on Dad, not on him. But the nobles and other adults had insisted that it was tradition to pass down the exact same crown from father to son.

Ezran wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He was not weeping. Just something caught in his eye.

Bait croaked in sympathy at him from a table next to the mirror. Ezran smiled at his friend, and hugged him. On a whim, he decided that Bait would come with him to the royal reception. He was king, it was his decision.

Bait in his hands, Ezran turned to face Opeli and Corvus, who had been hovering in the background. It was just the four of them and some guards here in the backroom of the Throne Room.

Ezran had meant to jokingly ask them how he looked, but the words got stuck in his throat. Which was just as well. Corvus was pretty bad at spotting rhetorical questions, and Ezran wasn't sure he actually wanted to have his question answered. Instead, he just nodded at both of them.

Opeli stared at Bait for just a moment. Ezran was ready to argue her on it, but eventually she bowed her head, and began to lead the way to the Throne Room.

Moments before they left the backroom, there was a knock on a side door. Corvus walked over to it and opened it. Behind it stood a member of the Crownguard, and behind him, Commander Gren, his aunt’s interpreter.

The guard bowed and opened his mouth to speak, but Gren beat him to the punch: “Excuse me, I’m very sorry to intrude on you like this. Truly, very sorry.”

Gren made his way past the guard and came to bow before Ezran. “Truly, I mean no disrespect. Something has just come to my attention that I believe King Ezran needs to be informed of without delay.”

“Um, can it wait until after I meet the Queen of Duren?” Ezran asked. Sometimes grown-ups were really bad at knowing what all really was urgent.

Gren lifted his surprised gaze to meet Ezran's eyes. “Pardon me, I wasn’t aware… But no, I am not sure it can.” Gren smiled apologetically.

“Queen Aanya is waiting. We don’t have time for this, Your Majesty”, Opeli argued.

Everyone turned to look at Ezran. This seemed to happen all the time now. Everyone wanted Ezran to make the hard decisions.

Ezran turned to Gren: “Can you keep it short?”

“Yes. Um. I think?” Gren said, and unfolded a piece of paper he’d been holding. “But this might be rather sensitive information, so is it possible we could speak in private?”

Ezran commanded his Guard to leave the room, but Corvus and Opeli he had already chosen to trust with everything.

Gren seemed to consider that good enough. “Well, um, I have been listening in on Lord Viren outside his cell for some time now...”

Ezran blinked. And again.

“...because I was informed that he talks, apparently to himself, when he is alone. Or at least when we believe he is alone, except I am not sure he is alone. I suppose, theoretically, he is alone, it’s just...” Gren waved his hand towards the paper. “Actually, it is a bit of a long story to explain _why_ I am no longer sure he is truly alone…”

“Get to the point”, Opeli ordered. “Have there been unauthorized visits to Lord Viren’s cell?”

Gren took in a deep breath, and then said in a blur: “I believe there is a high chance he is talking to an elf with the help of the magic mirror.”

“An elf?” Ezran asked, confused. “Why would Lord Viren be talking to an elf? Which elf?”

“I am not yet sure which elf, but in this passage here”, Gren pointed at a line on the paper, “as you can clearly see, Viren refers to battling “your kind” to whomever he is speaking to, and the likely scenario is that that means he is talking to an elf, as he has battled against elves on several occasions in the past. Or a dragon, but I don’t think it’s a dragon, but an elf.”

Yep, Ezran was officially confused.

Suddenly, Corvus spoke up: “Let me see if I understood you: you’re telling us that Lord Viren talks to himself in his cell?” Gren nodded. “And that you have been listening in on him?” Another nod. “And that when he speaks, he speaks to someone else rather than himself, and you think that someone is an elf?

“Exactly!” Gren sounded genuinely relieved.

“But why would Viren be talking to an elf?” Ezran had to ask. “He doesn’t even like elves.”

“Nor has he any way to reach one”, Opeli said thoughtfully.

“That we know of”, Gren pointed out. “But we still don’t know what the magic mirror does, and it might be used as a conduit for long-distance communication, or perhaps even as a portal.”

Opeli huffed, Corvus looked dubious, and Bait croaked.

“Oookay”, Ezran drawled out. “I guess it’s possible? Can we talk about it more later? Now I really need to go do some other kingly stuff. Everyone is kind of waiting for me.”

Gren had his finger raised like he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth, lowered his finger, and bowed his head.

Ezran, Opeli, Corvus, and Gren walked into the Throne Room, and Ezran assumed his position on the throne. The seat was way too big for him, and felt wrong, but at least he had Bait by his side sitting on the armrest.

Ezran was nervous and didn't really want to do this, but he was the king now. Kings had to do things they didn't want to do. In that way being king was kind of like being an adult.

And at least this time, a part of Ezran kind of wanted to be here. Opeli had given him a crash course on Duren and its queen, and she sounded... okay. At least they had a lot in common, like losing their Moms on the same mission, and having to be child-rulers.

But what if she was way better at being a ruler than he was? What if he'd just make a fool of himself?

Ezran sighed, and waved his hand. There was no wiggling his way out of this one, so better to just get it over with.

The guards opened the main doors to the Throne Room. In walked some twenty people, most of them soldiers wearing the colors of Duren: white and blue with a flower in the middle.

Between them walked a... well, a girl. A blonde girl who was a bit taller than Ezran was.

"Her Royal Majesty, Queen Aanya of Duren!" someone announced in official capacity.

Their eyes met, and she looked very serious, so Ezran did his best to look very serious too.

Aanya bowed her head slightly, not low, never breaking eye-contact, and Ezran nodded back in the same way, just as Opeli had told him to do.

"King Ezran of Katolis", she began. "Thank you for receiving Us."

"Yeah, sure.” No! “I mean, yes, We're honored to.. have you here?", Ezran stuttered, winced, and wished he could bury his head in a pillow. There had to be a pillow here somewhere.

Aanya smiled, though, and it was a kind smile but then she regained her posture. "Unfortunately, the reason for our visit is not a pleasant one."

Ezran glanced at Opeli, but under her calm demeanor, the priestess too looked like she wasn't sure what was going on.

Aanya went on: "King Ezran, do you recognize these?"

Aanya gestured with her hand, and some of the soldiers carried a long and narrow casket to the space between Ezran and Aanya. They opened the casket lid, and in it were weapons. The kind of weapons that Rayla used, though not exactly the same ones.

Ezran frowned. He still didn't know what this was leading up to, and didn’t really feel like turning it into a guessing game, where she had all the answers. "Why don't you just say whatever it is you came to say?"

"So you deny having seen these before?" Aanya asked, her face now a serene mask.

"What? No! I mean, I don't know. I don't remember seeing them." Ezran was liking the queen of Duren less and less.

Aanya took in a breath, and locked eyes with Ezran once more. "These weapons belonged to a villain who terrorized the streets of my capital.”

Ezran tried to think that through. “...Were you attacked by an elf?”

Aanya didn’t even blink. “No. The villain greatly resembled an elf, but comprised of smoke and ash, and after it had been slain, all that remained were these weapons. I believe we were attacked by dark magic masked as an elf.”

“And what makes you turn to Katolis about this?” Opeli asked, sounding more than a little defensive.

A dramatic pause. “Because the last time I met him, your High Mage and then regent declared vengeance on Duren for not joining his crusade against Xadia. And now someone is casting never-before-seen dark magics against us.”

Aanya crossed her arms and gave them a dubious look.

The room was completely silent. So, Aanya thought Viren had sent some kind of dark magic monster after her people, to scare them? That sounded a little far fetched to Ezran, who had known Viren all his life. Viren had always been grumpy, and serious, and kind of weird, but he was also Claudia and Soren’s dad. And the people of Duren were their allies.

Lord Viren wouldn’t do something like that, or would he? Ezran’s gut-feeling told him Viren wouldn’t, but then again...

Since his return to Katolis, Ezran had been told about a lot of things Viren had done. The man who did those things did not sound like the same man that had been his Dad’s best friend.

Ezran had grown up sort of scared of Viren, but definitely not “terrified for my life” kind of scared. But when Ezran had seen him in prison, Lord Viren had seemed… different. Scarier and darker, somehow.

Maybe it was the dark magic. Callum had gotten really sick after using it. Maybe something similar was happening to Viren. Maybe he made a mistake with a spell, and the magic was eating him up somehow?

Opeli was the first to interrupt the silence. “Lord Viren was never a regent of Katolis. As we have already written to you, and to the other kingdoms, he was acting on his own when he called for the meeting of the Pentarchy, and has since been imprisoned for his lies and treason.”

But Aanya’s face remained cold. “That is what your letter said. I still find it hard to understand what exactly happened, and in what order. Please explain to me, High Priestess Opeli, how could an imprisoned High Mage still be able to send smoky assailants all the way to my home?”

“Viren is not well”, Ezran said. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure where he was going with this, but everyone’s eyes were on him now, so he kind of had to go on. “He thinks the elves are going to attack us, and is really desperate to do something about that, but it’s not just that. He’s really not himself right now. I think he’s gotten poisoned by dark magic, somehow. Dark magic can be really dangerous to the person using it.”

Ezran paused to think for a second, and added. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe Viren sent the boogeyman. If he did, I’m really sorry. I hope no one got seriously hurt. But I don’t think Viren did it on purpose. He really doesn’t know what he is doing right now.”

Now it was Aanya’s turn to pause to think. She let her gaze sweep over the faces of Ezran and his people.

Eventually, she spoke: “So, none of you were made aware that Lord Viren had performed any kind of dark ritual after his return from the Pentarchy?”

Ezran and Corvus hadn’t been in Katolis during that time, so Ezran turned to look at Opeli.

Opeli furrowed her brows before saying: “No, we haven’t had any reports of that.”

“Um, if I may?” Gren had raised his hand and turned to Ezran to ask for a permission to speak. “I was held captive by Lord Viren during that time, and did not hear or see him performing a ritual, but he did seem to keep very busy, coming and going many times, in and out of his secret chamber.”

Aanya looked ponderous. “Lord Viren was allowed to go around as he pleased?”

Opeli sighed. “Although Lord Viren’s treason was found out immediately, there was a delay before he was arrested, because we couldn’t find him. He had a secret workroom in the depths of the castle. Unfortunately, we cannot vouch for everything he might have done during the time it took us to locate and arrest him.”

Aanya raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I see. Your High Mage had gone rogue and possibly mad, and you lost sight of him for days, but did not consider it that pressing a problem? Not something the other kingdoms should be made aware of?”

Opeli and Ezran began speaking, looked at each other, and Ezran began again: “No one knew Viren had gone _mad_ mad.”

“Yes”, Opeli agreed. “I’ve known Viren all my adult life, and although he has always been somewhat difficult and stubborn, I’ve never known him to raise his hand against anyone on his own side. Even after his treason was found out, we did not truly think he would violently resist arrest. At the time, given what we knew, his actions made no sense. No one could have foreseen the speed and severity of his fall to madness.”

Aanya looked at both Ezran and Opeli in turn, squinting her eyes ever so slightly. _Does she think we are lying?_

“Perhaps you’re right”, Aanya agreed. “Perhaps Lord Viren descended into madness, and it is merely a coincidence that, in his madness, he took rational steps that - had they not been discovered for the ruse they were - would have lead the Kingdom of Katolis to have more power and resources to fight its war.”

Aanya’s face was stern.“But I would rather be sure. By my right as Queen, I demand a full inquest in the matter. Then we will know not just if Lord Viren was behind the attack, but also who all might have aided him, and what else he might have done that no one here knows about. And yes, I would very much like to speak with the man myself.”

 

***

 

Viren had a visitor. He had never met this woman before in his life, but she assured him she was here to help. Viren hadn’t even considered asking the guards to get a healer for him, but they seemed to have come to that conclusion on their own.

Mages were rare, but Katolis had non-magical healers, and apparently someone had ordered this one to help Viren.

The healer woman, Kayoli, was a greying lady in her sixties. She had a kind smile, and a talkative disposition. At first, Viren had paid careful attention to everything she was saying, trying desperately to find out more about what was going on in Katolis. Unfortunately, her stories turned out to be merely a collection of menial blabbering and personal anecdotes, and whenever Viren tried to prompt her, the guards told him to shut it.

Viren’s head still felt fuzzy, and in the end, it was too much trouble to keep up with the healer’s boring ramblings. Viren still nodded or hmmphed occasionally, but his mind wandered.

The woman had given him some sickly sweet liquid to drink, and had now been working on the arrow wound for better part of an hour. At no point during any of it had Kayoli asked about Viren’s unnatural complexion or eye color, which probably meant that his features had at last returned to more-or-less normal.

The dark veins and gray hairs vanished on their own, given enough time, though how long it took depended greatly on how much Viren had overexerted himself. Sometimes the changes to his appearance lasted just minutes, sometimes weeks. Viren did not usually have time to wait that long, but luckily a butterfly a day kept an annoying healing lady away.

Eventually Kayoli tapped him on the newly bandaged leg. “You’d managed to get yourself quite banged up, young man, but nothing a bit of rest and the right herbs won’t cure. You’ll be out running on the fields again in no time.”

Viren nodded, though he wondered if he should have pointed out that because of his weak knee, frolicking on the fields was not an option for him even if this wound healed completely.

The guards, four in total, had been watching Kayoli work the whole time. Unlike the healer, they had remained quiet and professional throughout the exchange. At the beginning they had tried to coax Kayoli to keep quiet while she worked, but eventually even they had to admit defeat. The guards had probably deemed it harmless enough.

When Kayoli rose to leave, one of the guards asked her: “So he’ll be fine?”

The healer nodded, but the guard pressed her for more details: “When will he be well enough for questioning?”

Kayoli smiled at the guard, but also shook her head disapprovingly. “Kids these days, always in such a hurry.”

The guard rolled her eyes as she escorted the healer out of the cell. “There are important people waiting to see him. Bad enough we have Opeli breathing down our necks, but you try explaining to that precocious queen of theirs that ‘all good things come to those who wait’.”

Viren’s head snapped up just as the guards closed the door behind them. Had he heard that right? Had they just said ‘queen’?

There were currently only two queens who were rulers in their own right, and having met both of them recently, Viren had a pretty easy time guessing which one the guards were referring to.

“...Queen Aanya is in Katolis?” Viren asked out loud.

Aaravos, who was these days more often present than not, lifted a playful eyebrow. “ _A friend of yours?_ ”

Viren considered that and grimaced. “More like an acquaintance. The sort of acquaintance you send a dark magic assassin after, because she personally advocated for an ‘every kingdom for herself’ attitude at a time in history when cooperation between all of humanity was the only possible way to victory.”

“ _Ah_ ”, was Aaravos’ short reply, though the elf still seemed more amused than anything.

Viren glared at him. “This is not funny. If she is in Katolis, and making demands, she probably wants my head on a plate. And it rather sounds like my captors intend to deliver.”

Aaravos looked at Viren in a calculative sort of way. After a long silence, he said: “ _Come. There is something I must show you._ ”

Viren was about to roll his eyes, and point out that he was still tied to a wall, thank you very much, when suddenly the whole world _lurched_.


	4. Nature of Magic

In a confusing array of light and colors, the damp cell transformed into a room Viren had never been to, but had spent countless hours memorizing in detail: the room beyond the mirror.

Viren’s eyes grew wide as he recognized his surrounding. “How did you..?”

“Your body is still in your cell”, Aaravos’ mentioned off-handedly, his attention already drawn to his books and scrolls.

Logically, Viren knew Aaravos was right. Although the room felt warm, and the couch he was sitting on was like velvet under him, he was probably still sitting on damp cobblestone floor.

Fake or not, it still begged the question: “Why didn’t you do this before?”

Now Aaravos did turn to look at him, his eyes wide with curiosity. “I beg your pardon.”

Viren pinched the bridge of his nose. Annoyed as he was, he still found it exhilarating to be able move his hands freely. “If you could take away the pain and discomfort of the cell so easily, even if only by way of illusion, why didn’t you do it before?”

The room around Viren felt very real: the crackling of fire in the hearth, the scent of old scrolls and books, the lack of restraints to his hands. But it had to be some form of advanced Moon magics. That, or this wasn't an illusion, but something born out of the mental connection the blood pact had created between them. But Viren had never heard of that kind of magic, and preferred not to jump to wild conclusions when there was a known magical discipline that could explain all that he was now seeing and sensing.

Aaravos regarded him seriously. “Our connection wasn’t strong enough then. I brought you here as soon as I could, my lord.”

It annoyed Viren that he wasn’t able to prove whether the elf was lying to him or not. He had studied magic from an early age, and was nowadays considered the most powerful mage in Katolis, perhaps in all the human kingdoms, and he still had no idea how the blood ritual that bound them together worked.

With nothing to call Aaravos out on just yet, Viren focused on the here and now. “You said you had something to show me”, he grumbled, curious despite himself.

Aaravos picked up a metal box from one of the shelves, walked over to where Viren was sitting, and put it down on a low table in front of him. Viren reached for the box, but his hand went right through it. The illusion was convincing so long as he remained in place, but it appeared he could not interact with it any more than the illusory Aaravos could interact with the real world.

“Allow me”, Aaravos purred, and opened the box for him. From the box, the elf picked up what looked like a toy cube, small enough for him to hold in one hand. Viren had not seen the cube, or the box, for that matter, when he had peered through the mirror earlier, but somehow it still looked familiar to him. Where had he seen it before?

Aaravos turned the cube around in his hands, and Viren noticed that it had symbols for the original six primal sources carved on it, one on each side. All the symbols were glowing.

“Do you understand what this is?” Aaravos asked him.

Viren did not appreciate Aaravos’ choice of words, but he was too eager to learn more to derail the conversation. “It’s a magic item of some sort. An amplifier, perhaps?”

Aaravos smiled at him. “Actually, it is something far more mundane: it can detect the presence of primal magics.”

Viren leaned forward to get a better look at the thing. If what Aaravos said was true… “Why are the signs glowing all at once like that?”

Aaravos’ smile brightened even more, which made Viren suspect he had asked the question Aaravos had been hoping to hear.

Viren thought about it for himself. Aaravos was clearly connected to the Stars, but when he had channeled power to Viren, he had cast from the Sun, the Sky, and the Earth domains as well. Viren hadn’t questioned it at the time, but in retrospect, it was a bit odd. As far as Viren knew, an elf was born with a primal connection, but could only cast spells connected to their respective primal source. Only dark mages could emulate all the schools of magic…

“Are you a dark mage?” Viren asked, more astonished than accusing.

Aaravos placed the cube in front of Viren, and as he let go of it, and stepped back, all the runes stopped glowing.

Viren frowned. “Your point being…?”

“You are not connected to any of the Primal Sources”, Aaravos said in a low voice.

 _Well, obviously!_ Viren thought angrily. Humans weren’t blessed with magic at birth, which meant they had to use primal stones or other magical conduits to cast spells. If Aaravos thought he was passing on a great insight, he was… Wait.

Viren gaped. “And you are connected to _all_ of them.” It wasn’t really a question, but Aaravos nodded anyway.

“...How?” Viren asked, his tone part angry, part wistful.

“I was born with a connection to the Stars. The others I had to acquire the hard way.”

Viren clenched his jaw. “No.”

Aaravos frowned. “No?”

“You are lying”, Viren stated coldly, his hands balled into fists, his eyes focused on nothing at all.

“I already told you, I never…”

“You are lying about this!” Viren yelled.

What Aaravos was implying... it went against everything Viren had ever been taught about magic. _Primal connection is something magical creatures are born with. If you are born human, well, better luck next time, if you believe in reincarnation._ It wasn’t fair, but it was the natural way of things. It was the only way of things.

“You have already witnessed my power”, Aaravos stated matter-of-factly. His calmness made Viren even more irritated.

If what Aaravos was saying was true - and Viren wasn’t saying that it was - but if it was… “Do the others know?”

“Others?”

“Other elves. Do the other elves know that such a power can be learned?”

Aaravos looked him squarely in the eye. “Who do you think locked me in the mirror?”

That gave Viren pause. He had of course suspected all along that elves had created the mirror, but he hadn’t had time to consider all the ramifications.

“How long?” Viren asked, and looked up at Aaravos. “How long have the elves known about this? How long have you been in that mirror?”

Aaravos hesitated, but only for a second. “Almost a thousand years.”

Viren paled. “Then how are we still here?” Since Aaravos did not appear to be following his train of thought, Viren explained: “If the elves have known about the existence of such a power _all this time_ , how have they not used it to wipe us out yet?”

Elves were always quick to point out that all life was precious, but somehow, humans had never been considered part of that equation. Elves had no trouble killing humans by the thousands for the perceived crime of wanting to return to their ancestral homelands in Xadia. Humans weren’t special, or magical, and therefore humans didn’t matter. To the elves and dragons, the smallest glow moth was worth more than a hundred humans.

Most of Katolis’ written records did not date that far back, but Viren was sure the elves had always treated humans as second-class citizens, even before they had exodused all of humanity to live in the rough, less fertile, and less magical lands west of Xadia. Viren understood the magnitude of that loss more keenly than most, since he had been to Xadia, and caught glimpses of its dangers, but also of its beauty and wonders. Most humans alive today had no idea what they were missing out on.

In Viren’s opinion, that was the greatest crime the elves had acted upon humanity: they hadn’t just broken their bodies, but their spirits as well. Humanity had been barely scraping by for so long that they had become complacent in their own suffering. They had forgotten what a feast of color and magic could look like, or they had internalized the blame, believing themselves unworthy of such things.

Part of what had made Harrow such a great king was that he had been to Xadia, too, and therefore understood what was at stake. In the end, however, even Harrow had grown complacent; letting the assassins come to him, believing their right to vengeance was greater than his right to live.

In a matter of decades, there may no longer be any humans left with enough spirit in them to try to take back Xadia. When that day came, the elves’ victory would be complete. Viren could not let that happen.

“The elves”, Aaravos started after a long consideration, “are fearful of the unknown. For years, my brethren were content with how things were, and too afraid to dream of how things could be. I forced them to face the reality that the world was not as clear-cut as many had believed, and what was their reaction? To hide all evidence, and bury their heads in the sand.”

Viren perked up at that. “I tried to find out more about you in the library, but I couldn’t. The pages blurred before I could read them.”

Aaravos nodded and raised his arms in a gesture that resembled a shrug, but was far more graceful. “For the crime of asking ‘what if’, I was struck from all records. They could not erase me from the memories of people, but humans have short lifespans. So long as no written record could be accessed, they knew my memory would fade to legend, and eventually, to nothing.”

Viren stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I take it most _elves_ don’t know about you either?”

At that, Aaravos looked down. “It took a master practitioner from every discipline to create my prison. In unanimity, they condemned me and any who might try to follow in my footsteps.”

“Can humans gain a connection to a primal source?” That was the big question that had been on Viren’s mind throughout the conversation, but one he had been afraid to ask.

Now Aaravos looked at him and smiled. “No human ever has, to my knowledge. But with my help, you will become the first.”

Viren closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He felt surprisingly conflicted about Aaravos’ offer. On one hand, it sounded too good to be true, so it probably wasn’t. Learning to connect to a primal source could not be an easy task, or more people than just Aaravos would have stumbled upon the formula over the ages. There was probably a catch.

On the other hand, if Viren could learn to cast primal magics without reliance on a primal stone, that could change everything. This could be the key to humanity’s victory. It would be selfish, if not downright criminal, of him to refuse to at least try.

Viren opened his eyes and saw how Aaravos’ smile widened. Viren hadn’t even said anything yet, but perhaps his eagerness was written plainly on his face.

“Which primal source would you like to connect to first?” the elf asked in a deep, almost seductive voice.

Viren’s first instinct was to answer ‘the Sun’. Although Viren wasn’t a particularly violent man, even he had fought Sunfire Elves from time to time, and he would love to see the looks on their faces when, for once, they would be on the receiving end of a fireball. Viren should weigh all his options, though.

Viren had been in possession of a Sky primal stone for years, before he had given it to Claudia. Due to years of study he knew some primal spells from almost every domain, but he was most familiar with the kind of spells one could cast with the Sky primal.

However, the more he thought about the predicament he currently found himself in, lightning and freezing blasts did not feel like the most useful spells he could have at his beck and call. Sky magic was powerful in the moment, but it was also temperamental, and lacked a more lasting impact. And there was nothing Viren wanted more than to leave his mark upon this world.

“Teach me to connect to the Earth Primal Source.”

Aaravos looked mildly surprised, but he did not argue. “Your wish is my command. Shall we begin?”


	5. Duality of Earth

“Out of all the primal sources, Earth is the most concrete and straightforward one”, Aaravos lectured in a calm, almost hypnotic manner. “That does not mean that it is simple, or lacks versatility. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Aaravos moved back and forth on the other side of the table as he spoke. Viren already knew all of this, but he did not interrupt Aaravos, or tell him to cut to the chase. Aaravos had a deep, soothing voice, and after many days of relative isolation, Viren would have enjoyed listening to him read Katolis’ tax records.

“Earth magic draws on the power and energy within the land itself”, Aaravos went on, and placed his hand on the library floor for emphasis. It seemed to be an unintentionally ironic gesture, considering the floor was made of Moon magic, but Viren was not one to quibble over such details.

“Earth magic comes in two major domains: one concerned with the stones, minerals, crystals, and gems of the land, the other on the flora and fauna of the living world.” Aaravos turned to look at Viren, and smiled a crooked smile at him. “It is this dual nature of Earth that makes it difficult to grasp in all its depth and wonder.”

Viren leaned forward in the chair and frowned. Aaravos had explained to Viren that he had to learn the true nature of Earth before he could connect to it as his primal source, but Viren wasn’t sure how learning about things he already knew was conducive to such an outcome.

Aaravos continued his lecture, unperturbed: “Creatures naturally connected to the Earth, like the Earthblood Elves, are patient, sometimes stubborn, and care deeply about the history and balance of the natural world. Spells connected to the Earth come in a wide variety of effects, but they all tend to shape the world around them, leaving a lasting impact on the caster’s surroundings even once the casting is done.”

Viren nodded. This was one of the main reasons he had chosen Earth.

Aaravos nodded back at him. “Casting Earth magic from a primal source requires patience and resolve. The Earth does not want to yield to a caster’s every whim. The key to making Earth move for you is to realize that it is already moving, for the Earth is not a stagnant thing: it is a cycle.”

Viren had only cast Earth domain spells through dark magic, so he was familiar with the kinds of effects it could produce but had never heard anyone describe the primal source itself in such terms. His interest in the lecture was growing exponentially, and Aaravos seemed to pick up on that.

“Deep down, Earth has much in common with the Sky and the Ocean, for they are also cyclic in nature. However, whereas air and water move through their cycles relatively quickly, Earth’s cycles are slow. The changing of seasons. The birth, growth, and death of a lifeform. The formation of new minerals. The rise and fall of mountains. All these things take time, though some clearly more than others.

“On a more practical note, when casting on a living thing, the spell tends to have immediate effect. Casting on rocks takes more time and effort, but has the most lasting effect. Earth mages have to balance out their need for speed with their need for power. Planning and forethought go a long way to making an Earth mage prepared for the challenges he may face in day-to-day life.”

Aaravos paused to give Viren time to think things over, or perhaps ask some questions. Viren opted for the latter: “You said that Earth is straightforward, but not simple. What does that mean?”

Aaravos waved his hand in a wide arc, but seemed to struggle for a moment to put his feelings into words. “Earth is… obvious. We interact with it every day. Everyone has some familiarity with Earth, yet few can understand its many seemingly separate aspects as part of the same whole. And you have to grasp and appreciate all of Earth to connect to any of it.”

Aaravos smiled at him. “Earth can help or heal. It can trap or destroy. It is versatile and, I suppose, practical. The only thing it really lacks is mystery.”

Viren could see what Aaravos meant, but he did not see it as a minus. In Viren’s mind, the predictability and knowability of Earth was one of its greatest appeals. He had a methodical mind, and he liked things such as ‘reproducibility’ and ‘consistent outcomes’. Though he could see how such things might make Earth one of Aaravos’ least favorite primals.

“Why do we never meet Earthblood Elves?” Viren asked, purely out of curiosity.

Aaravos raised a curious eyebrow. “You’ve never met one?”

“Obviously”, Viren said sarcastically, but also clarified: “At the border, we’ve mostly faced Sunfire Elves, or the occasional Moonshadow or Skywing Elf, but no Earthblood Elves.”

Aaravos looked thoughtful, but also bemused. “That… does not really surprise me. The Earthblood Elves were always a bit reclusive, even towards other elves. They also believe that neutrality is the best way to balance, so although far from pacifists, they are not interested in picking sides in other people’s wars.”

Viren deadpanned at Aaravos, not because he didn’t believe him, but because what he had just said made no sense. “They think that staying out of fights is neutrality?” Viren asked, incredulous.

Aaravos tilted his head. “You don’t believe so?”

Viren shook his head. “Doing nothing is not a neutral action, because it favors the status quo, and therefore benefits whoever has most power under the current circumstances. If those circumstances are skewed, doing nothing is the same as siding with the oppressors. Do not get me wrong here: I am glad to hear they aren’t running around on the battlefields, turning people to stone. However, if I were fighting on the elven side in this war, I would be pretty far from pleased with them for not pitching in more.”

Aaravos shrugged. “I always rather assumed the Earthblood Elves were in it for the long haul, and didn’t care about things lesser than fates of continents. Then again, they also value life in all its forms, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, so go figure.”

Viren frowned. “Why do I have a feeling that you are about to tell me that this is to do with that ‘duality of Earth’ bit you were talking about earlier?” Aaravos’ smile grew brighter.

Viren groaned and pulled back his hair. “Fine. Earth has two sides. I’ll meditate on that. Just so long as this doesn’t mean I have to accept the Earthblood Elves’ ridiculous worldview and see it as reasonable in order to grasp Earth.”

Aaravos gave him an apologetic smile. It was the most sincere expression Viren had yet seen on the elf’s face.

 

***

 

Viren was back in his cell - not that he’d ever really left. The cell was just as drab as he’d remembered, but at least he had a lot more on his mind now than he’d had that morning. Nothing could consume Viren’s attention quite like planning a new magical experiment, so it was just as well that Aaravos had kept an eye on the passage of time, and informed Viren that the guards might come in to feed their prisoner around this time. Time to return to reality.

Unlocking the Earth arcanum, as Aaravos had called the process, turned out to be a deceptively simple affair: all Viren had to do was uncover the true nature of Earth, and the primal connection would follow suit. This made Viren feel uneasy.

No matter which way he looked at it, he kept coming around to the same conclusion: _it can’t be that simple._ If appreciation of a primal and a bit of meditation was all it took, people and elves alike should have been making new primal connections left and right, sometimes by accident. Even if it took hard and deliberate thinking, and maybe a teacher, it should have happened to someone, somewhere, at some point.

Perhaps it was different for the elves. They had an innate connection to a primal; perhaps that connection also blinded them to the true nature of the other primals? He had read theories that an elf’s primal connection subtly guided his or her personality, interests, and life choices. Perhaps that was so, and that guidance stood in their way should they wish to dwell on the other primals or their meanings.

Humans should suffer from no such hindrance, but they of course wouldn’t even know to try.

Mages were far less common among humans than among elves, and most ordinary humans understood very little of magic. Viren knew from personal experience that people were wary of magic, believing it to be dangerous to the caster as well as the target.

Magic certainly had its risks, especially to an untrained mage, but Viren still wished people did not so easily equate magic with bad luck. That sort of superstition made his life, professionally and personally, that much more challenging.

People’s fear of magic had kept the number of mages low as surely as the fact that there was no official place or institution in the human kingdoms where one could study magic. Viren himself had been lucky to catch the attention of the previous High Mage of Katolis.

Viren’s father had worked at the castle, and although Viren was supposed to wait for him in the servants’ quarters, he had often snuck into the royal library to find something new and exciting to read. On one such occasion, when he was only nine years old, he had literally ran into a middle-aged woman who was wearing heavy, intricate robes.

Viren had feared he’d get in trouble, or worse, get his father in trouble, but High Mage Iryana had smiled at him kindly, and asked him what he was doing there. Viren had shown her the new book he had found, eager to explain to someone about all the marvelous things he had just read about.

Viren’s father did not share his son’s appreciation for books about far-off realms and ancient times, but Iryana had listened to him patiently. Not wanting to be rude, Viren had eventually asked her what she was doing there. To his great surprise, Iryana had not told him to run along. She had explained to him that she was working on a new magical solution, and that if he wanted to, he could stay and watch.

The first time Viren saw Iryana cast a spell was the day he knew he wanted to be a mage. Nothing he had seen before could compare to the wonder and thrill that seeing her perform a simple Plant Growth spell had stirred in him.

Viren’s intelligence and tenacity had left an impression on the High Mage, and she had eventually taken him on as her apprentice. Viren wasn’t the first student she had ever had, but by the time he was in his late teens, he’d already surpassed his master and all her previous pupils in skill and in ambition.

After Iryana’s passing, there had been little question about who should take her place as the new High Mage of Katolis. Viren would have been an obvious choice even if he hadn’t been Prince Harrow’s closest friend.

Thinking about Harrow made Viren wince. Aaravos noticed it, but did not ask. The guards still hadn’t arrived to check up on him.

“The elves who locked you in the mirror… did you know them personally?” Viren asked out of the blue.

Aaravos’ face gave away nothing about his feelings on Viren’s choice of topic. “ _Do you believe that talking about my past will help you unlock the Earth arcanum?_ ” the elf countered in a neutral tone.

“It might”, Viren answered, his tone bordering on petulant. It had been a long day of study, and the night before had been a restless one, so he was at the end of his composure.

“ _Yes, I knew them._ ”

Viren nodded. “And how did it make you feel?”

Aaravos gave Viren a sideways glance. “ _Angry. Sad. Disappointed. It was a long time ago. Why do you want to know?_ ”

Viren had finally found a topic the elf wasn’t comfortable with, and it made him feel like he had some power over the man. Or maybe just a bit better idea of who Aaravos was and what made him tick. That said, Viren wasn’t pestering Aaravos for details just to make the other man uneasy.

“Were you ever able to forgive them?” Viren asked, serious.

Aaravos looked thoughtful, but before he had a chance to give his answer, there was a rustle at the door. Viren almost ordered the guards to not disturb him right now, but then he remembered his place.

The evening meal was no different from usual. It was starting to be a smooth and practiced affair, archers and all.

Viren wasn’t particularly hungry. He knew he should be, by now, but perhaps Aaravos’ illusions had taken away his sense of hunger as well as his sense of his surroundings.

Viren emptied his plate anyway. He would need his strength when he escaped this place, and now that he finally had something resembling an actionable plan, that day seemed to be approaching that much faster.


	6. Under Suspicion

“This is a bad idea. We should not be here”, Lady Silvia, Queen Aanya’s closest advisor, told her quietly enough that even her own guards could not hear it. Aanya’s advisor would never be so bold as to question the queen’s decisions in public. It was one of the reasons Aanya liked her.

Tonight, however, Aanya had nothing to say to her. They had already been through this, she had already made up her mind, and the queen had made her decision known to those under her. To argue further would be beneath her.

Silvia, finally admitting defeat, fell a step behind Aanya as the queen strode confidently towards Katolis’ dungeons.

Finding out where Lord Viren was being detained had been laughably easy. Earlier that night, at her official welcoming banquet, Aanya had had the good fortune of being seated next to a rather talkative member of Katolis’ High Council.

Aanya had learned years ago that so long as she uttered a question, and frowned her brows in a look of mild confusion, adult men had an irresistible urge to explain things to her. In excruciating detail. Now she had all the information she needed to pull this off.

“Relax”, Aanya whispered to Silvia before they rounded the corner to where the guards posted outside Viren’s cell would see them. “And don’t look so guilty. Remember, if anyone asks, we have King Ezran’s personal permission to be here.”

King Ezran had an endearing honesty about him, but he was also very new to being king. That was what would make the lie convincing; the child king just might have given Aanya permission to go see Lord Viren in the dead of night, and forgotten to inform any of his guards about it.

Aanya felt a twinge of guilt at that, but shrugged it off. She could have asked for Ezran’s permission, but had eventually deemed it wiser not to. Aanya had a hunch someone in Katolis did not want this inquest to succeed. She did not think King Ezran was personally involved in, or aware of, any sort of coverup, but if Aanya had gone through the official channels to arrange for a visit, those people would have had ample time to warn or even silence Viren beforehand.

_Because something isn't adding up here._

King Ezran and High Priestess Opeli’s insisted that Viren had simply gone mad, but that was a bit hard to swallow. It was so neat, so _convenient_ , to roll all the blame on one man.

Aanya was certain it had been Lord Viren who sent the mystery assailant to Duren. With a spell that potent, the list of potential suspects was short to begin with, and Viren had as good as sworn retribution at them at the end of their last meeting.

But the more pressing question was: how had Lord Viren been able to pull it all off with no one else in Katolis any wiser about it? In his supposed madness, Lord Viren had acted with purpose and competence that outsmarted all those standing in his way. Could one mad mage really have pulled it all off without help from, or at least the tacit approval of, the High Council?

It seemed more likely that Lord Viren had had - and perhaps still had - accomplices in the court. If that was the case, said accomplices would not want Aanya to go see Viren yet, and that was why it was paramount that she did, the sooner the better.

Ezran and Opeli would find out about the visit in the morning, but even based on their very brief acquaintance, Aanya was certain King Ezran would forgive her. Aanya had no intentions to sour the relations between Duren and her most important foreign ally - a concern Silvia had expressed - but nor could she just sit around waiting for the official inquest to get on the way. Not if there were more surprises on the way from Lord Viren against her Kingdom.

Official inquests took time, typically at least months, as an investigator interviewed any and all who might have seen or heard anything. Aanya had demanded an inquest and, once complete, would welcome its results. But she did not feel she had the luxury to just sit on her hands in the meanwhile, and so she had instead decided to perform a preliminary inquiry of her own on the matter of Lord Viren’s madness.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” One of the guards had spotted Aanya and her entourage.

Aanya scanned the scene before her and, to her relief, saw no red-headed officer among them. Commander Gren, one of Ezran’s advisors, was apparently usually posted down here, and had he been now, he might have called Aanya out on her bluff. However, it was close to midnight, and there were only file-and-rank guards around. _Perfect_.

“Mind your manners when addressing her _majesty_ ”, Silvia chastised the guards out of habit, and Aanya had to suppress a smirk.

 

***

 

Ezran’s guards had agreed to let Aanya in to see Viren, but not without their company. It was as good as could be expected, Aanya supposed. If Lord Viren was inclined to name his allies, hopefully he would not be deterred from doing so by the presence of Katolis’ Crownguard.

The sun had set many hours ago - not that its light would have reached into the cell in any case. Only the two torches Aanya and her escorts had brought with them lit the prison cell.

Lord Viren was chained to the back wall in a position that did not allow him to fully lie down. First Aanya thought him asleep, but then Viren raised his head, and blinked at the light.

Something had changed about Lord Viren, and the change ran deeper than what Aanya would have expected based solely on the very different circumstances in which she and Viren now met.

The mage looked completely different than what he’d looked like only a week ago at the Meeting of the Pentarchy. At the meeting, Lord Viren had been a confident, presumptive, arrogant man, who thought himself above his station, and was quick to misjudge Aanya for her young age. The man before her _now_ was a shadow of his former self.

Partly, it must have been the clothes. Where Viren had previously worn expensive, yet practical attire, now he was in a roughspun tunic and shackles. His hair and beard had not been groomed, and where his face had once been lean, it now looked starved. Viren looked like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in years, but most of all, Viren’s _presence_ was completely different. Gone were the rigidly straight posture and air of self-importance.

At first, Viren kept his eyes on the ground, but when he did look up, his eyes were desperate and hungry, but also without fear. Or surprise, Aanya noted in dismay.

_Someone has warned him._

There was something almost animalistic about the way Lord Viren looked at them, or perhaps through them, since he did not react to them as individuals. The people before him seemed to interest him very little, and yet his entire being radiated danger as surely as if he’d been a hungry banther growling at them.

Looking at the man before her now, Aanya understood where Ezran and Opeli had been coming from; Lord Viren did not look the part of an evil mastermind, puppeteering events and policies from behind the scenes. Lord Viren looked mad.

But Aanya had come this far, and did not intend to turn back down now. For the safety of her kingdom, she couldn’t afford _not to_ find out the whole truth.

 _Viren was easy to read at the Pentharcy, his hopes and ambitions transparent in every word he spoke_ , Aanya reminded herself. _You can handle one uppity mage. Just get him talking, the rest will follow suit._

Aanya let silence linger a few heartbeats longer, giving everyone time to train their eyes on her. Then she spoke, her words carefully chosen to intimidate and aggravate:

“Lord Viren of Katolis, first of your House, former High Mage; you stand today before us so we might determine what all transpired during the time you unlawfully assumed the powers of a regent. Do you understand?”

 

***

 

Did he understand? Of course Viren understood. Who did this child take him for?

Viren opened his mouth to answer something snappy, but Aaravos, standing to Viren’s left, whispered in his ear: “ _Calm yourself, my lord. This child cannot hope to understand what is truly going on in the world. Nor does she deserve to have it explained to her. Give away as little as possible_.”

It had been Aaravos who woke Viren up moments before his visitors came in. Viren had earlier determined that Aaravos could see and hear everything that happened around Viren, even when Viren didn’t notice it; now he wondered if Aaravos ever slept.

Viren bit his lip. Aaravos was right, of course. Viren knew it was beneath him to get so upset. Sometimes, often times, he was just too preoccupied with forming convincing arguments to know when to say nothing at all.

“I understand”, Viren eventually replied, and was quite satisfied with how little his voice betrayed of his thoughts.

 _This whole debacle is but a nuisance_ , Viren reminded himself. An inconvenience that kept Viren from more important things, such as pioneering a new form of magical connection, and using it to escape.

“ _Patience_ ”, Aaravos murmured. Viren gave him a sideways glance, and nodded slightly.

“In your own words”, Queen Aanya began, “why did you summon the Meeting of the Pentarchy?”

Viren was surprised that she started with something so obvious and irrelevant. Was it a strategy to get him talking?

Viren had to cough a little before his voice felt like it carried. “I summoned the meeting, because threat of war looms over all of humanity as surely as dragons loom in our skies. A threat of such magnitude should not go unacknowledged or unanswered.”

“And you forged the Royal Seal of Katolis when you sent the summons?” Aanya asked in a lofty tone, wearing an air of superiority around her like a cloak.

“ _A child-queen, and with such a need to prove herself_ ”, Aaravos mused. “ _So enamored by her own wit, she does not see the world for what it is_.” Viren looked to Aaravos, and thought over his impression of the young queen of Duren.

“Well?” Aanya insisted.

“ _Petulant_ ”, Aaravos laughed. “ _It looks like she wants to cross her arms and tap her foot on the ground. Would you not say so?_ ”

Viren couldn’t help but smirk at the mental image.

The queen’s eyes grew cold. “You find this situation amusing, Lord Viren?”

Viren sobered. “No. Not at all. Please, carry on.”

There was a flash of anger in Queen Aanya’s eyes, but she reigned in her temper and went on: “Who all did you tell of your plan to send letters with a forged seal on them?”

Viren considered that, and answered: “No one.”

It was technically true. He hadn’t, in so many words, told anyone. He had suggested calling a Meeting of the Pentarchy, but the High Council had dismissed his suggestion on the basis of _protocol_ : only a king could call for the meeting, and as Katolis found itself without a rightful ruler or regent, they could not act, even though action was desperately called for.

However, Viren had not told the Council that he would do it anyway, with or without their approval.

The Crow Master had seen the seals, and known them for the forgeries they were, but he had lacked the spine needed to stand up to Viren on the matter. Strictly speaking, Viren had not told him anything, either.

Not that any of it really mattered now. It had all been for nothing. The other kingdoms were ruled by cowards who would rather hide behind Katolis’ military might than take actions to protect themselves, let alone each other.

Viren had risked everything for nothing.

 _I guess we humans have our own ‘Earthblood Elves’ to worry about,_ Viren realized bitterly. _Simultaneously hiding behind their allies, and looking down on them for their warlike ways._

“ _They have all turned their backs on you. They do not deserve your loyalty. They do not deserve you_ ”, Aaravos whispered, his tone serious.

“And what happened when you returned to Katolis from the meeting?” Aanya continued her line of questioning.

Viren looked up at the child queen again, and thought: _Aaravos is right. I owe nothing to the likes of her._

The likes of Queen Aanya would not - perhaps even could not - understand what it was like to be born a servant’s son, with no expectations placed upon him by anyone. Viren came from _nothing_. He’d had to claw his way to the top, with nothing but his wits, his tenacity, and his willingness to work harder than the rest. Yet Viren hadn’t just made something of himself, he had _thrived_.

And for what? Those born to power still looked down on him for his humble beginnings. They judged him unfit to lead, unworthy of true authority; the kind only generations of nobility could breed. In small actions as well as big ones, they always found ways to put Viren in his place; to remind him he could never aspire for true greatness, the kind one has to be born for.

Harrow had been different. Harrow had never made a big deal about a man’s social standing.

“ _Even he changed his mind, did he not?_ ” Aaravos murmured to Viren’s ear.

Yes. Yes he had. In his final hours, Harrow had made a show of reminding Viren of his place; to remind him he had not, _could not_ , rise above the station to which he had been born.

 _You’re a servant. So on your knees._ Viren winced. He was on his knees now, in every sense of the word.

“When you returned to Katolis, you must have known you would have to answer for your actions.” Aanya sounded confident, but Viren thought he could detect a nervous undertone to her words. “Yet rather than running away or handing yourself in, you hid in your workroom. Why?”

Viren sighed quietly. What should he do? Keep quiet, or keep his answers short?

It seemed to Viren that whichever he chose, it would make little difference to the outcome of this hearing, because his interrogators lacked true curiosity. They already knew what he had done, and had already made up their minds about what they would do with him. Nothing Viren said or didn’t say would change their minds. They just wanted him to play his part, to go through the motions like an actor on a stage.

Well, if it was a show they wanted, Viren could surely provide.

“I returned because there was still much work to be done”, Viren answered long after everyone had stopped expecting him to say anything.

“What work?” Aanya asked.

Aanya kind of had him there. Finalizing his blood ritual with Aaravos had been less about finishing unfinished business than about desperately looking for any way to correct the terrible situation he had found himself in. But he’d be a fool to admit to anything at this point.

“Adult stuff”, Viren answered shortly.

At that, Aanya literally rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Was part of that work, perhaps, sending a shadow assassin to haunt my kingdom?” Aanya elaborated coolly.

Yes. That was what this late night interview was all about, wasn’t it.

Viren had had so much else on his mind of late that he had very nearly forgotten about the smoky assassins. Just another desperate last-minute action that had amounted to nothing. Or so he’d thought, until now.

Duren had apparently figured out what he’d done, and probably why he’d done it too. But Viren did not see representatives from the other three human kingdoms present, so perhaps the others still believed they were being targeted by genuine elf assassins. If Viren admitted to having cast the spell now, the other kingdoms would learn for a fact that it had been but a ruse.

In the end, Viren saw nothing to be gained by being honest. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Aanya did not look pleased, but nor did she appear surprised. She was studying his face very carefully. “Then what were you doing? Or should I rather ask: what were you and your invisible ally doing?”

Viren felt his heart miss a beat. _How could she know…?_

Viren glanced to Aaravos. He too looked surprised, but his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

When Viren returned his attention to Aanya, he noticed a subtle flash of doubt in her eyes.

“ _She doesn’t know_ ”, Aaravos said at the same time that Viren thought it. Viren could suddenly feel Aaravos’ hand on his shoulder, supporting him. “ _She’s just fumbling in the dark._ ”

Viren felt a sudden rush of confidence fill him, and emboldened, he asked: “Queen Aanya, have you ever met an elf?”

To reassert her authority over him, Aanya should have ignored a question coming from a prisoner. Instead, she asked: “What does that have to do with your crimes?”

Her surprise confirmed that whatever mystery ally she had been alluding to, it was not Aaravos. It also allowed Viren to steer the conversation, and he decided to make the most of it. Maybe he should impart a lesson to her, after all.

“When asked about why the elves hate us, most humans automatically answer that it is because of some long-ago, long-forgotten misdeeds that started this war. Or dark magic. But I’ve spoken with actual elves, and I can let you in on a secret: neither of those answers is correct.”

Viren took a pause, slightly concerned Aanya would use that opportunity to wrestle the situation back under her control, but she did no such thing. She looked upset, but also curious, despite herself.

“And?” she prodded.

“The elves don’t hate us because of anything we’ve done. They hate us”, Viren said, “because we are human. More precisely, they hate everything about us that makes us human. To them, all the things that separate humans from elves make us inherently worse than they are. Humans are greedy, and selfish, and untrustworthy. Humans lack beauty, and grace, and magic; things all elves are gifted at birth. And because of these shortcomings, they reason, humans don’t deserve the same things that elves, and dragons, and all other living beings in Xadia deserve _naturally,_ by the right of existing.”

Queen Aanya looked unaffected, but under the careful mask of indifference, there was disgust. Whether targeted at Viren for saying something so mean, or because a part of her could recognize the underlying truth in what he’d said, Viren wasn’t sure.

He pressed his advantage regardless. “The war can’t end, because so long as humans have anything, the elves feel like we’ve been given more than we deserve. They live longer, they have access to more magic, and food, and inventions, but not only will they not share any of that with us, they call us the _greedy_ ones, implying that we could do with less.

“And even if by some miracle, a human was able to prove themselves to be up to the elves’ standards, it would change nothing about how they view humanity as a whole. Just an exception that proves the prevalence of the rule; a rare good human able to fight against her evil nature, probably thanks to the harmonious influence and teachings of the elves.

“Because that is how they see us: as something that should not be. And so the war goes on and on. When we kill them, they call it murder. When they kill us, it is justice, because killing something so meaningless as a human is hardly a crime at all.”

“Fascinating”, Aanya quipped, but Viren could tell his words had made an impact, no matter how much Aanya tried to hide her discomfort.

“I know you sent a spell to intimidate Duren to fall in line with Katolis’ plans”, Aanya went on, all pretense of politeness and civility gone. “What else did you do that no one yet knows about?”

Viren took in a deep breath. Aaravos’s hand still rested on his shoulder.

Although he had spoken his warnings in earnest, Viren hadn’t truly expected to be able to get through to Aanya. She would have to learn just how little elves thought of humans the hard way, when it might already be too late.

Viren lifted his gaze to Aanya’s and held it there, but said nothing.

“I think we are done here, for now”, Aanya stated coolly, probably able to tell the situation was no longer under her control. The mere fact that she was retreating spoke volumes.

“You’re young”, Viren said to Aanya as she was already leaving. Even to his own surprise, there was no deprecation in his tone. His voice only held sympathy for, and frustration with, her innocence. “You think that if you keep your head down, and don’t rock the boat, the elves will think you’re one of the good ones, and leave you and your kingdom alone. But it really doesn’t matter what you do. They will still judge you for what you are. You can never be low enough on your knees to satisfy elven feelings of superiority. You don’t know it yet. But you will.”

Aanya looked at him angrily, huffed, and left.

 

***

 

After assuring Silvia one last time that she was only somewhat unhappy that they hadn’t gotten more information out of Lord Viren, but otherwise unperturbed, Aanya closed the door to the guest room she had been assigned.

In the safety and solitude of the room, she finally let her shoulders slouch. What a nightmare that had been. Why had she gone in so unprepared?

Viren was crazy. He wasn’t laughing maniacally, or talking in gibberish, but he was mad in a slowly creeping, yet methodical way. There was no doubt about that in Aanya’s mind now.

Viren was mad, and therefore nothing he said should mean anything. And yet.

Lord Viren truly believed in what he was saying. He’d said similar things at the Meeting of the Pentarchy, but that had been different. That was politics. That was _rhetorics_. In such a situation, people said whatever made their cause and side look good, regardless of whether they actually believed in it.

If Viren had spoken now in an effort to convince Aanya that the shadow assassin had been real, and not his doing, it would have been desperate, but it would have made sense. But Viren wasn’t trying to fool her. He wasn’t saying he hadn’t sent the assassin, but that it didn’t matter whether he did or not, because the real elves would come for them all eventually. And he genuinely believed it, too.

Lord Viren was crazy. Lord Viren was dangerous and needed to be dealt with. But did that mean Lord Viren was wrong?

 _What would my moms do?_ Aanya asked herself. It was a little thought experiment she used sometimes when she needed to make sense of the world. She couldn’t remember them, but she knew they had been good queens, and that she’d be lucky to grow up to be half the woman they’d been.

Based on what she knew of them, and the decisions they had made during their reign, what would her moms do about someone like Lord Viren? What would be the just and right course of action to take? What should she demand Katolis to do about him?

Aanya wasn’t sure. What did she truly know about madness? Or magic, or war, or elves, for that matter? Only stories that other people had told her.

All Aanya knew was that tomorrow everyone would expect her to have an opinion and to make a just decision.

She fell on her bed, and held the ring she wore as a pendant tightly in her hand. But no answers came.

 

***

 

Opeli was doing her morning rounds. Katolis had lost its king and its High Mage in the span of a week, which meant that now more than ever, someone else high in the chain of command had to show interest in the day-to-day minutia of the castle’s upkeep. It was important to reassure the staff that everything was business as usual, and that the staff knew there was someone they could turn to with any pressing worries they might have.

Opeli sighed. One of these mornings, she should bring King Ezran with her on her rounds. Katolis’ routines had been honed over the years, and rarely required direct input from the monarch, but he should still be made aware of all the work that went on below his immediate notice.

As the High Priestess, making sure the castle larders were stocked, and that the servants and guards had orders, wasn’t exactly her job, either, but someone had to be at least nominally aware of everything that went on in the castle, and in a time such as this, she didn’t really trust anyone else with it.

“High Priestess Opeli!” A guard was jogging towards her.

Opeli turned her attention to the woman. “Speak.”

“It’s Soren and Claudia. They’re in the city, and riding for the castle as we speak. What do you want us to do about them?”

It was on moments like these that Opeli wished she knew King Ezran’s exact whereabouts at all times. The king was almost certainly not missing, and Corvus was with him, but Opeli didn’t know where the boy was this morning, nor whether she would have time to go look for him right now or not.

And a decision needed to be made right away.

Opeli walked briskly to the nearest staircase leading to the courtyard, and the guard followed her. It was only a short walk to the maingate, but it would buy her some time to think about the situation, and what their response to it should be.

Soren and Claudia had likely had more to do with their father’s plans and crimes than what Viren had admitted to, but before they had more answers, most of the accusations laid against the High Mage’s children were circumstantial, at best. And yet, it was a near-certainty, at least in Opeli’s mind, that Soren and Claudia’s loyalty to their father outmatched their loyalty to the crown.

King Ezran had a way of assuming everyone was innocent until proven otherwise. If their king was here, he would probably go down to greet them as one would greet friends.

Opeli groaned quietly. That would, in fact, be King Ezran’s most probable course of action. Even though it was far from a wise and tempered one.

Opeli hated this. It was not her place to _guess_ at the king’s will. It was not her place to make a decision on the matter at all. But if they did not act right away, they might lose their only chance to do so.

Opeli arrived on the castle courtyard, and ordered a dozen or so guards to follow her. She made her way to the gate just in time to see Soren and Claudia ride in on horseback.

Opeli sighed, and thought to herself: what did the laws and traditions of Katolis demand her to do?

Or perhaps what she should ask herself was: last time she gave someone a warning before arresting them, how well did that turn out?

Her mind made up, Opeli addressed the surprised-looking duo: “Crownguard Soren; Claudia; your father Lord Viren has been found guilty of treason against the crown. You are both wanted for questioning, and for the crime of unlawfully imprisoning Commander Gren. Guards”, Opeli turned to face the soldiers of the Crownguard. “Arrest them.”


	7. Homecoming

Soren must have heard that wrong. He had to have. Their Dad was super dedicated to Katolis. Like, more dedicated than anyone ever. There was _no way_ he’d ever turn traitor. Like, just no way.

Yet his fellow Crownguard soldiers looked serious, and moved in formation, closing in on Soren and Claudia.

“Wait! There has to be a misunderstanding!” Claudia said, putting into words what Soren was thinking. “Our Dad is _not_ a traitor, and nor are we.”

Opeli looked very stern, even kind of angry. She did not back down an inch.

Soren glanced to his sister and their eyes met. Claudia looked shocked, but then her expression changed. Now she had one of her ‘determined to get this right’ looks on her, the one she had when casting magic. Claudia nodded at him.

 _Yup_ , Soren agreed. He also had no idea what was going on, but there was definitely something wrong with this picture, and they needed to get to the bottom of it. They needed to talk to Dad, and that would be easier to do when not imprisoned themselves.

The maingate had already been closed and bolted behind them, and they would soon be completely surrounded by guards. There was no escaping on horseback.

Soren jumped down from his mount and unsheathed his sword. Behind him, he heard Claudia dismounting too, but he didn’t have time to look at what she was doing, because the first line of guards was closing in on them fast.

 _Just like in a sparring match_ , Soren told himself. _You know, except everyone is using actual pointy swords_. At least they were all wearing armor.

One of the guards lounged at him, hoping to get a lucky shot in before Soren was ready. Nope. Soren dodged the swing, and while the soldier was out of balance, Soren kicked him, sending him tumbling into two other guards.

_Three down! And like, ten more to go. Okay, maybe fifteen. And those three will get up in like 10 seconds._

But Soren was pretty sure Claudia had a plan, so all he needed to do was buy his sister some time. Magic always took time. He just needed to hold the Crownguard off until she was ready to make her move.

_No biggie._

Soren recognized the formation the three closest soldiers were about to use on him, and dashed forward to avoid the trap.

Swing, whoosh, block, dodge. Soren blocked incoming attacks with both his sword and the armors on his arms. Man, why wasn’t he wearing his helmet! His head offered a serious weak point.

Well, it wasn’t like he’d expected this kind of a homecoming party. Soren had thought the scariest thing they would have to face was angry Dad.

Come to think of it, angry Dad would still have been scarier.

Soren moved in a tiny circle, keeping his center of balance low, and his sword in motion. He was pretty much surrounded, and couldn’t afford to just stand around, but he couldn’t move too far from his sister’s side, either.

He was mostly on the defense, only swinging his sword in attack when he needed to leverage control, or keep an opponent on his toes.

Soren was the youngest member of the Crownguard. He’d been admitted early because he was unusually good at all things fighting. But he was still one soldier against, like, at least eight or so guys who were still on their feet.

Also, his abs would cramp soon. He wasn’t paralyzed any more, and that was really great, but he hadn’t fully healed from his injuries, either.

Soren was super relieved when he heard his sister’s voice from behind him, chanting magic. He recognized the spell she was about to cast; the slight smell of rotten eggs would be his only warning, but that was plenty. Soren took in a fast breath, and shut his eyes tight.

Everywhere around Soren, people started coughing hard. Soren winced in sympathy, but did not open his eyes. Claudia had practiced this spell on Soren when they were kids, and he knew just how much it sucked if you didn’t have time to prepare for it.

Soren kept his eyes closed and held his breath, but even then he could feel the really bad-smelling, irritating smoke on his skin.

He knew the cloud of black smoke would have spread to half the courtyard by now. At its thickest, the smoke would be impossible to see through, but that was not the worst thing about it: when it hit your eyes or your mouth, you’d be like ‘nooo gaah groosss” and would just cough and cough and cough, and your eyes would sting like superbad.

Soren startled a bit when someone pulled at his arm, but the pull was weak, just to pull him along, so it was clearly Claudia. Soren guessed Claudia had had time to shield herself from her own spell somehow, and let his sister grab him by the arm and lead the way.

Okay, Soren was seriously running out of air. He had to open his mouth and take in another gulp, and it tasted really bad and made him cough, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. The smoke must have already dispersed a little, and in any case, the first time was always the worst. Soren had been hit with this nasty stinker so many times he’d lost count.

“Here, this way”, Claudia whispered. Soren let his sister pull him forward, but then he hit his head.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry! Lower.”

Soren knelt, and felt for the edge of whatever he’d just hit his head on. It was a low opening, and Soren had to go on all fours to fit in.

Behind Soren, there was a sound of Claudia’s robes rustling, and then the small click of a hatch being closed.

“I think you can open your eyes now”, Claudia murmured.

Soren did. He wasn’t hit with eye-watering smoke, but he also couldn’t see anything.

“Just a sec”, Claudia mumbled close-by, and her palm started to glow.

They were in a small passageway that had uneven rock walls on all sides.

“Hey, good thinking!” Soren complimented. Claudia had managed to drag them to one of the secret entrances to the underground tunnel system. Dad had shown them the tunnels when they’d been just kids, and although Soren hadn’t been in them in ages, he’d spent countless hours playing hide and seek in them when they were younger. Claudia and Soren both knew these tunnels like the backs of their hands.

“Shhh”, Claudia warned, and placed her ear against the hatch door.

Soren stopped to listen, too. Yeah, he could hear angry shouting and footsteps from the courtyard, but it didn’t sound like anyone had seen where they went.

Claudia squeezed past Soren, and began crouching forward down the small tunnel. Soren followed her. After a while, their tunnel came across a larger tunnel. The siblings crawled into the other tunnel, and in it, they were finally able to stand up straight.

Only now Soren could see his sister’s face. He’d been kind of expecting her to have the black eyes, like she’d had right after healing him, but no, to Soren’s relief, she looked totally normal. Just really, really serious.

“What was _that_ about?” Soren asked, spreading his arms to stretch them.

“I don’t know.” Claudia had her thinking-face on again.

“But, like, it has to be a misunderstanding, right? Dad’s not a traitor.”

Claudia looked Soren in the eye, still very serious. “Soren. I don’t know what’s happened in Katolis while we were away, but… I mean, the task Dad gave you. The secret task. If they found out about it, they probably would call it treason.”

Soren just stared. Huh? Riiight. He guessed she had a point. The super awful secret mission Dad had given him hadn’t strictly speaking been, um, right. But Soren hadn’t even done it! And how could they have found out about it?

“But no”, Claudia raised her glowing hand to her chin, still in her thinking mode. “No, if they knew about that, they would have charged you with that, too. It has to be something else.”

Soren felt conflicted. He didn’t want people to find out about the secret mission Dad had given him. He didn’t. But if people _had_ somehow found out about it, on their own, that would have also been kind of a relief. Then Soren wouldn’t have to tell them, but they would know.

Claudia started to pace around. Her hand-light, their only source of light at the moment, moved as she did. “Opeli said they had found out about Dad imprisoning Gren. Would that be enough reason for them to call him a traitor, though? I mean, Gren was the one getting in the way, and Dad had to lock him up, but it’s not like we hurt him.”

Soren sat down. The right side of his torso was still really sore, and he didn’t feel up to keeping up with Claudia’s train of thoughts.

“... Although, after Harrow’s death, the chain of command has been really unclear, so maybe Opeli just outright decided to side with General Amaya. Maybe they even made Amaya regent, after all. I don’t think Opeli ever liked our dad, but still, they wouldn’t just try to _get rid of him_ , either. Or would they?”

Claudia turned to Soren and turned her hand to light his face, blinding him for a moment. By the time his vision returned, he could see her sister’s apologetic smile. Under the smile, she seemed really upset, though.

Soren wanted to console her, but he didn’t really have any answers, either. “What do you think we should do?” he asked instead.

Claudia glanced down and took in a deep breath. “I think we need to talk to Dad.”

“Agreed”, Soren said, crossed his arms, and nodded. Dad would know what was going on, and what they needed to do next.

Claudia still looked a bit unsure. “He’s our dad”, she said. “He’s one of the good guys. There has to be something more going on. Something we don’t yet know about.”

Soren thought that over. Yeah, it made sense. The situation was super confusing because they didn’t know enough about what had happened in Katolis in the few days they’d been gone. But Dad would set the record straight.

“Soooo, we’re breaking Dad out, right?”

Claudia turned to face Soren. “Definitely.”

A heartbeat later she added: “First, we have to run by Dad’s secret office. That was the last stinky beetle I had, and I’m nearly out of other ingredients, too. They know we are coming for him, so we will need some really creative solutions to rescue Dad from right under their noses.”

Soren nodded. This was starting to sound like a plan. “Lead the way, sis.”

 

***

 

It was early morning. Probably. The guards hadn’t been to see him yet, so all Viren had to go on was the sliver of light streaming into his cell from under the door, but he thought he could tell the difference between sunlight and torchlight by now.

Aaravos was with him, but the elf was not looking at Viren. He was probably trying to give Viren space to process his thoughts, or maybe even to meditate. Viren, however, was not in the mood to be alone with his thoughts.

They’d already tried that. Just thinking extensively about the Earth primal didn’t seem to do anything. There had to be something more to it. Some key ingredient that was missing.

“Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way”, Viren spoke up. Aaravos glanced at him and cocked his head, but said nothing, so Viren admitted with a heavy sigh: “Maybe I’m not ready for Earth. Maybe we should try something else.”

Aaravos lifted a finger to his chin, considering it. “ _I’m not sure I understand. Is there some other primal source that interests you more?_ ”

Viren grimaced. “...No.”

Aaravos took a step closer. “ _Then what’s the problem?_ ”

Viren sighed. Where to begin?

“You should know that I’m not a quitter”, Viren told Aaravos. “I am not lazy, nor a coward. When I set my mind on something, I don’t give up until I’ve reached my goal, no matter how long it takes; no matter how hard it is.”

To Viren’s surprise, Aaravos’ nodded. “ _I know. I watched you through the mirror. It took you a long time and many tries to figure out how to activate the mirror, but you never faltered or gave up._ ”

Aaravos had been watching him? Viren felt self-conscious, but he tried to mask it with determination. “Exactly”, he said, and nodded sharply back at Aaravos.

“ _What's different now?_ ” Aaravos asked.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Viren was having doubts about whether humans could learn primal magics, after all, but those doubts were hard to admit even to himself, let alone out loud.

“I’m used to being good at magic”, Viren began. “Dark magic isn’t easy or without its risks - far from it - but there is something comforting about it.”

Aaravos looked perplexed, but not judgemental. “ _You find dark magic_ comforting.”

Viren tried to wave his hands in an arc, but the shackles did not give enough way. “In dark magic”, Viren explained, “all you need to cast a spell is some knowhow, proper ingredients, and courage. There is no secret ingredient. Dark magic is accessible to all.”

In Viren’s opinion, dark magic was the great equalizer among men.

Aaravos thought that over. “ _Does primal magic make you uncomfortable?_ ”

Viren struggled to put his feelings into words. Aaravos might be right. Primal magic felt a tad alien to him. Dark magic was about knowing exactly what to do, but primal magic was vague, more like a hunch. Earth magic appeared to be about _feeling_ things rather than _understanding_ them, and that made the academic in Viren uneasy.

“Primal magic is too _personal_ ”, Viren eventually said. “It’s less about the spells and their effects, and more about the caster and his state of mind. What if...”

Viren sighed, frustrated. He knew Aaravos wasn’t being dense on purpose. However, in order to be understood, Viren would have to be honest and direct about a fear that had been growing inside of him ever since Aaravos had told him that it was possible for a human to learn to connect to a primal source.

Viren wanted to connect to the Earth primal. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything, perhaps discounting his childhood wish to learn magic overall. But in his heart, he didn’t believe it would ever happen.

“...What if I’m not _worthy_ of Earth?”

Aaravos’ eyebrows shot up. “ _Worthy_ ”, he repeated, and then he laughed. Viren glared at him, not really seeing the joke.

“ _The primal sources do not come with_ moral _prerequisites_ ”, Aaravos pointed out derisively. “ _If they did, what would that say about the elves? Would that mean that elves_ are _in fact better than humans? And could a primal connection be revoked if the recipient didn’t adhere to some strict moral code?_ ”

Viren’s head knew that Aaravos was making valid arguments, but his heart wasn’t as convinced. “It’s just… I think I understand the ‘deep earth’ part of Earth, but I struggle with the ‘natural world’ aspect of it. Maybe it’s because… because I’ve killed.”

Maybe the problem wasn’t the trickiness of primal magic but Viren himself. Maybe a human could learn to connect to the Earth primal, but he personally could not.

“ _I have killed, too_ ”, Aaravos said earnestly.

That was a part of Aaravos’ past that Viren would love to learn more about, but he knew that if he changed the topic now, and didn’t confess the full extent of his fears and doubts, he might never work up the courage to do so again.

“When the guards came to arrest me, I killed them. I hadn’t done that before. Now I feel _tainted_.”

Aaravos looked mildly puzzled. “ _You think that killing members of your own species has placed a curse on you._ ”

“Not exactly”, Viren admitted. “It’s not so much that they were human, but that they… they didn’t have to die. Their deaths changed nothing; I didn’t escape, and I didn’t die. I was captured alive, just as they had intended to do all along. The guards died, but their deaths didn’t change anything. They just died, and it was _meaningless_.”

Aaravos had a weird look on his face. Since he wasn’t saying anything, Viren went on: “When I have to kill living things to power my spells, those deaths may be tragic, in their own way, but they are never in vain. I never cast a spell with a costly component unless I am convinced the effect is worth the price.

“Or when I’ve felled elves on the battlefield: they died, but their deaths mattered - to their side or ours. To the whole war, even. But there is no such meaning in infighting. Those guards may as well have slipped in a bathtub, and just never got back up again.”

Aaravos seemed to have finally regained control of his facial muscles; he looked merely surprised, rather than like Viren’s head had turned into a pink taffy hippo.

“ _I think I now see why you struggle with the living side of Earth_ ”, Aaravos said at last. “ _You understand that life has value, but you don’t see that value as intrinsic to life. In your eyes, life only matters if it accomplishes something._ ”

Before Viren had time to argue, Aaravos moved directly in front of him, and placed his hands on Viren’s shoulders. The sudden closeness was more intimate than anything Aaravos had done before. Their faces were mere inches apart, and Aaravos’s starry eyes did not even blink.

“ _All life matters. That doesn’t mean you can’t kill anything: death is a natural part of life. All things die eventually, but no matter how something dies, its life mattered. No matter what something achieved or didn’t achieve in life, its life was not without inherent value._ ”

Aaravos moved his hands to Viren’s cheeks. “ _All life matters. You matter. Regardless of what you’ve done or failed to do in your life: you are worthy of Earth. You are worthy of magic. You are_ _worthy._ ”

Viren didn’t know what to say. Aaravos was usually so mysterious and aloof that it was hard to know if he truly meant anything he said. But now, Aaravos definitely meant it, and that emotional intimacy was more frightening than their physical closeness.

There was a flash of something unreadable in Aaravos’ eyes. “ _Do you trust me?_ ”

Viren gulped. “Yes.” Yes, he did.

And just like that, Aaravos’ hands were on Viren’s throat, pressing into his windpipe, and Viren could not breathe.

 

***

 

Ezran lifted a picture from the nightstand, and looked at it. It was a miniature version of a painting he’d seen many times; the original, much bigger version of the royal portrait was hung in the Feast Hall. Ezran himself was just a baby in this picture, far too young to remember the time he’d posed for it.

It was the only portrait that had the whole family in it, and only one of three of Queen Sarai that she’d actually posed for; all the others had been painted or carved after she had passed away.

Queen Sarai. Ezran’s Mom. Mom he didn’t even remember, but he almost felt like he did. He’d been told so many stories about her that sometimes Ezran was sure he knew what her voice or laugh would have sounded like.

Ezran sat on the bed and stared at the picture. It had been hard growing up without a Mom, but it had always been so. It was something Ezran had grown used to: more of an empty place in him than an actual pain.

Seeing his Dad in the portrait, strong and smiling and alive, hurt more.

Ezran wiped his eyes with his sleeve, and sneezed on it, too.

There was a nudge at his side. Bait was there on the bed, pushing at him with his head, telling him he was sorry for Ezran. Ezran pat the glowtoad on the head. Bait jumped to Ezran’s lap, and rested there, a reassuring weight.

 _Why does everyone have to leave me?_ No, that wasn’t fair and Ezran knew it. His parents hadn’t chosen to die. They just had. Sometimes bad stuff just happened and it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

It still sucked, though.

Ezran put the picture back on the nightstand. He could take it with him; maybe he should? Maybe that would be expected of him? But he didn’t want to disturb Dad’s stuff.

Dad wouldn’t have wanted Ezran going through his things, or moving stuff around; if Ezran did that now, it would be the same as admitting Dad wasn’t coming back to scold him about it.

And of course Ezran knew that Dad wasn’t coming back, ever. That Dad was truly, truly gone. But it was really hard to understand that. Every morning when he woke up, during the first few minutes of sleepy haze, Ezran would wait with his eyes closed for Dad or Callum to come and call him a sleepyhead, and tell him he needed to go brush his teeth. And when he woke up properly, and realized Dad would never be coming to wake him again, it felt like losing him all over.

Corvus opened the door to the balcony. “To let in some fresh air, your highness”, he explained.

Ezran nodded absentmindedly. It was just him and Bait and Corvus here in Dad’s bedroom. The King’s bedroom. This was where Ezran should have been sleeping now, but he hadn’t given anyone permission to touch the place.

Ezran had told everyone he’d go through the room himself, but he hadn’t been able to go anywhere near the place before now.

 _This is where it happened_.

A shudder ran through Ezran that had nothing to do with the wind, but Corvus, who never missed a thing, saw him shiver and moved to close the balcony doors. Just as he did, Ezran heard a familiar but distant chirping sound.

Ezran got up from the bed so fast he dropped Bait on the ground, but he barely noticed. He knew that sound. “No, don’t close it!”

Ezran ran to the balcony. _There!_ He saw Pip flying in the sky, coming towards them.

Wow! At least his Dad’s bird was alright! Ezran had been worried for him: he’d been told that after Dad was gone, Viren had locked Pip up in a cage, and moved him to his study, but that the bird had ran away in the mess that had been arresting Viren.

Pip flew over to Ezran and landed ungracefully on his shoulder. He began chirping, and immediately Ezran knew something was wrong. Well, not so much wrong as _different_. Completely different. The bird looked like Pip but wasn’t.

Ezran gasped. “Dad....?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why settle for a cliffhanger ending when you can have a DOUBLE cliffhanger ending.


	8. Reflection

In many ways, the silences were more unnerving than the sporadic monologues. At least when Gren could hear Viren talking, he didn’t need to wonder what he might be missing out on, or what the prisoner might be up to right now.

Viren’s ramblings this morning had been nothing out of the ordinary: the topic appeared to be magical theory, and more exactly, what separated dark magic from primal magics, but since Gren himself knew very little on the subject, he couldn’t tell if Viren was working on a new idea, or just talking about some basic stuff that every mage already knew.

It occurred to Gren that he should probably try to find a mage to read through his notes at some point. It was too bad that Katolis only had two mages of notice at the moment: the one he was listening in on, and the one that had escaped from the Crownguard less than half an hour ago, but was most likely still hiding somewhere on the castle grounds. Gren would have gone to help with the manhunt, except that something told him he was already exactly where he needed to be if he wanted to run into the High Mage’s children.

The number of guards posted outside Viren’s cell had been tripled, but somehow no one, not even the men and women standing nervously around him, seemed confident that it would be enough to stop Claudia and Soren. Gren hadn’t been present when the guards had had to fight the High Mage, but apparently it had done a real number on them; they didn’t used to be this skittish at the prospect of fighting a dark mage, he was quite sure.

Gren wasn’t planning on spending all day just worrying about when the sky might fall on them. Instead he took out a new sheet of paper, and focused on making a neater copy of his notes.

A loud thump emanated from inside the cell. The guards exchanged nervous glances, but nobody moved.

Gren strained his ears to hear better. There was definitely something out of the ordinary going on in the cell, now. Viren’s chains rattled loudly, and it sounded like he was kicking the ground with his feet.

It sounded like some sort of a struggle, except there were no screams or grunts.

Everyone turned to look at Gren for instructions. Gren bit his lip. It could be nothing, or it could be a trap, but what choice did they have but look into it?

“Open the door!” Gren ordered. The guards did as they were told, weapons in hand. Gren didn’t carry a sword with him, as he was used to needing his hands for signing more than anything else. He didn’t suppose it mattered, though: if they were about to walk into a fight, Gren’s mediocre swordsmanship skills were unlikely to be a deciding factor between victory and defeat.

The cell looked normal. That was to say, Claudia and Soren weren’t there, nor any other unexpected visitors. Just Viren, still chained securely to the back wall, writhing in his chains, seemingly completely of his own accord.

Gren went in first. As he hurried over to Viren, he could tell something was wrong; the mage seemed very out of it, and didn’t acknowledge their presence with even a word or a glance. When Gren reached Viren’s side, he could tell why: Viren didn’t seem to be breathing right, and based on the bluish tint to his skin, that had been going on for a while now.

“What the....?” breathed out a guard who had been following right on Gren’s heels.

Gren may not have been much of a fighter, but he did know first aid. “Loosen the chains. Prop him sitting upright, and tilt his head back, if you can.”

The guards hesitated, but only for a moment, before doing as Gren had ordered.

Viren wasn’t unconscious yet. He struggled a bit as the guards started manhandling him, but his efforts were feeble. His eyes were focused on something left of Gren’s head. Or maybe on nothing at all. Viren was probably close to losing consciousness.

Gren kneeled next to Viren. The man’s pulse was weak but still detectable. There was nothing visibly wrong with the outside of his throat. A foreign object in the airway, maybe? “Viren, are you able to cough?”

The mage looked at Gren now, but he was still making no sounds from his throat, and certainly not coughing forcefully. Could a foreign object block his airway so completely? And what would Viren even have in the cell that he might have swallowed?

Gren pulled up Viren’s shirt a bit to see his chest. Viren’s skin was sinking between his ribs as the man tried futilely to draw breath.

Maybe the airway wasn’t obstructed but constricted. An unknown medical condition? Really bad allergies? Dark magic? Gren didn’t know enough to be sure.

Viren’s eyes fluttered shut, and he became a dead weight in the guards’ arms. Gren heaved a sigh, and instructed the guards to lay Viren down.

_At least this will make checking the airways easier. And will put the guards more at ease._

Gren still didn’t know what was wrong with the prisoner - other than that he was drowning on dry land - but he would do his best to save him.

 

***

 

 _Aaravos isn’t smiling._ That was the last thought on Viren’s mind before the world before his eyes went black.

It was an important detail, however, because if Aaravos had been smiling, then maybe the elf really had betrayed Viren, even though doing so right now didn’t make much sense at all.

Viren felt like he was floating in a void. _I must have lost consciousness_.

Oddly enough, Viren still _felt_ awake.

Viren could no longer see the prison cell, or the guards, or Commander Gren. He couldn’t even see Aaravos, and in spite of the desperate situation he found himself in, Viren found some comfort in the idea that there still existed a place in his head that was Aaravos-free. Wherever Viren was, he was on his own; he just knew it, somehow.

And Viren could breathe. He took in a gulping breath, but it did nothing to clear the dizziness.

Slowly, Viren’s vision cleared. He could see movement up ahead, but when he tried to reach out towards it with his hand, his fingers bumped into something solid. There was something akin to a window pane between him and whatever was going on. The scene beyond the barrier became clearer, but Viren could not take part in it. Only watch.

Moments later he recognized what he was looking at. How could he not? It was his personal study, a place he had spent truly countless hours in. However, the room looked slightly different. The piles of books on the worktable were different from the ones currently occupying it, or rather, from the ones that _had_ occupied it before Viren had trashed the room while resisting arrest.

There was a host of other differences, as well, but when he focused too hard on any specific detail of the scene, his view became shifty. _Faulty glass_ , Viren decided.

A movement caught his eye. To Viren’s surprise, he saw himself enter the room from the secret doorway covered by the large painting. Viren leaned against the see-through barrier to see himself more clearly.

The Viren on the other side of the glass was oblivious to being observed. He walked over to his desk and leaned over it, focused on a page in one of his books. Most likely going over a list of ingredients, checking it against the castle’s supplies.

“What is going on?” Viren asked out loud; from himself or the other Viren, he wasn’t quite sure, but the other made no indication of having heard him.

Suddenly, the door to the chamber swung open. In walked…

“Cassandra?” Viren’s mouth hang open as his ex-wife walked into the room and over to meet the other Viren. He hadn’t seen her in years.

She looked beautiful, and so young. Come to think of it, the other Viren looked younger as well. He walked to greet Cas, and there was no limp. They kissed, just a quick greeting. They smiled and said something to each other, but Viren could only see, not hear, the scene before him.

He looked so happy. They both did. He’d almost forgotten just how in love they had been, once upon a time. Before all the fighting and the constant arguments.

 _Why am I seeing this?_ He was hallucinating, or maybe this was Aaravos’ doing, but to what end?

Aaravos had strangled him, but after the first few heartbeats of shock had worn off, Viren had come to suspect Aaravos wasn’t suddenly betraying him. Aaravos was trying to help him, somehow.

It simply made no sense for Aaravos to pick this random moment in time to turn his back on Viren. Surely, killing Viren - his only ally and companion - did nothing to advance Aaravos’ plans. No, it did not add up. As uncomfortable as the feeling of suffocation had been - and as alarming as it was to learn that Aaravos was _capable_ of physically harming him through their mental connection in the first place - there had to be some kind of point to all this.

Viren lifted his hands, and noticed he was holding his staff in one of them. He was dressed in his usual garb, as well.

Viren took a step backwards and began to draw a Revelaris rune, but the air next to his finger did not shimmer the way it should have.

Frustrated, Viren hit the invisible barrier with his staff. Not even a crack.

Viren leaned on the barrier, took in a breath to calm his temper, and resigned himself to watching. He opened his eyes just in time to see young Soren helping his toddler-aged sister enter the study on their mother’s heels.

Viren just stared. Cassandra chided the children: they were not supposed to follow her to their father’s study. But Viren, the one behind the glass, waved it off. He lifted both Claudia and Soren into his lap, and they giggled happily.

Viren had no idea if this scene was a memory he had forgotten, or completely imaginary. After the divorce, he’d done his best to push all memories related to Cassandra from his mind. Had there truly been a time they’d all been this happy?

Because the people on the other side of the window looked happy. They looked like a real family.

_How could I have ruined that?_

The vision started to blur. “No!” Viren shouted. He wanted to stay longer, but the images ignored his wishes and faded into black.

“No”, Viren breathed.

Why did he feel like he had just lost something invaluable for good? It wasn’t like any of the people in the image were dead; they’d just changed over the years. Drifted apart.

During his imprisonment, Viren had spared hardly any thought to his children. Where were they? Were they alright? He had no way of knowing.

 _No_ , Viren told himself. _There is no point in wallowing on this_.

Claudia and Soren were no longer infants; they were able to look after themselves. And they had each other.

But a traitorous echo threw his own words back at him: _If you have to choose, choose the egg._

Suddenly there was a bright light shining against Viren’s closed eyelids. He opened his eyes and had to shield his face with his hand. The sun was shining brightly on him, and after a week of imprisonment in a windowless cell, the brightness made his eyes water.

Once his eyes had adjusted a bit, Viren saw his surroundings had changed: gone was the emptiness. Now he stood on a hilltop, spring green hay moving in waves all around him.

The wind caught hold of Viren’s clothing, too. It felt divine. The sunshine, the fresh air, the display of colors. Things Viren did not normally pay much attention to, but which right now felt like _magic_ in their own right.

Viren knew this clearing. He glanced downhill to see a little wooden house by the edge of the forest.

This was where his grandmother had lived. She’d been dead for decades now, but when she still lived, Viren had been taken to visit her every spring for a few weeks.

He’d only been a boy then. Young, naive, full of misplaced optimism.

Viren halfway expected to see his younger self on the porch, but he saw no one.

Viren took a step towards the house, but then stopped. He wasn’t quite sure what made him hesitate, but hesitate he did.

A pair of butterflies flew past him, and Viren’s eyes immediately fixed on them. “Sun wings.” Rare. Very useful as spell ingredients. On instinct he knelt down and reached out his hand, tempting the butterflies to land on it.

It was a bit of a silly thing to do, since he had nothing to lure them with, and no jar to capture them in, but to Viren’s surprise, one of the insects changed direction and indeed landed on his finger.

On the moment that it did, something went wrong. The vibrant orange color was drained from the creatures wings, and the butterfly withered away to dust. Confused and mildly horrified, Viren made to get back up, but where his hand landed for support, the grass, too, started to blacken and die.

All around him, the clearing was undergoing a change: the hay, the flowers, and the trees looked like they’d been burnt so badly they had become ashen and fragile, and would dissipate from the slightest touch.

Viren looked down to the little house. It was still alright, but the wave of death approached it quickly. The wave of blackness that was him.

“No! Stop it!” Viren commanded, but his demands were futile.

Viren realized there was someone standing by the cottage. Viren opened his mouth to warn the stranger, but no words came.

Viren had never seen the man before, but he was somehow familiar. There was something about his eyes: they were pitch black. And the man had Viren’s staff in hand, except it looked different, more menacing somehow.

Before Viren had a chance to decipher what it all meant, his surroundings changed again, and the black-eyed man was gone. This time Viren welcomed the change with a relieved sigh. Anything would be better than going back there.

Viren was now standing in a large, beautiful stone hall. The room was much bigger and older than any room in Katolis. Again, Viren knew this room. He had been here four months ago: the Dragon King’s Palace.

Viren looked around himself, worried the house’s owner would come in and zap him to death, but the place looked empty and abandoned.

“What are you doing here?” a familiar, distinctly-human voice asked behind him.

Viren turned slowly, staring at his oldest friend as if he’d seen a ghost. “Harrow?”

“You should not be here”, King Harrow said angrily. “Look at what you’ve done! This is all your fault!”

“I…” Viren said hesitantly. “I did it to protect Katolis. To protect humanity.”

But Harrow was shaking his head. “You did it, because you are weak and small. You couldn’t stand the knowledge that something truly powerful lived so near, and if it chose to kill you, there would be nothing you could do to stop it.”

Viren looked down and bit his lip. Who was he to argue about that? Deep down he knew - and had always known - that he was just poor soul playing around with borrowed might. He was a fraud. He was nothing.

“I can fix this”, Viren said, pleading Harrow for one more chance, but Harrow’s eyes were cold and uncaring.

“You can do nothing of the sort, and we both know it. Now it is time to pay the price”, the king said solemnly.

Harrow grabbed Viren by the back of his neck, and turned him around. They were now in the inner sanctum of the palace, and just where he had originally found it, the magic mirror was there.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Harrow asked angrily. “Isn’t this what it was all about? You gambled the lives of everyone in Katolis, and for what? A bit of extra power. A trinket!”

Viren realized that Aaravos was standing in the mirror. Aaravos could save him!

But as Harrow walked them closer to the mirror, Viren realized to his horror that it wasn’t Aaravos looking back at him in the mirror: it was Viren himself, but his short hair and beard were white, his ears pointy, his eyes like distant stars, his horns… He had _horns_.

“No”, Viren gasped, and turned to Harrow, to convince him one more time, but there was a glass between them now, and on the other side of the glass stood none other than the King of the Dragons.

“Just do it”, Viren said, and closed his eyes in anticipation, but no attack came.

When Viren opened his eyes, he could see Thunder had turned his back on Viren, and was walking away.

“You can’t…” Viren started to say hesitantly, and then finished with more force, “You can’t just leave me here!”

 

***

 

Claudia’s eyes darted around the hidden dungeon room that she and her Dad had taken to using as a storage space for magical ingredients. She went carefully through every shelf in search of useful items, and of inspiration.

Some salamander sulfur? Sure thing! Always came in handy when a fire spell needed an extra boost. Ears of a terror bat? Great, she’d forgotten they still had some left. Blindworms, maybe? Naah, it wasn’t like she was going to poison anyone today; they were fighting their own people, after all, not elves or something else terrible.

What else? Claudia tapped her finger to her lips. She felt like she was forgetting something. She dragged a stool over to the shelves so she could peer at the top ones. Hmm, they still had one preserved jackalope in a jar. She should get its paws; speed would be of essence once they got Dad out, and would have to make a run for it.

It was too bad Claudia and Viren hadn’t had a chance to properly restock in months; many of the most potent ingredients had a limited shelf life.

Well, they did have the dragon horn, and that had got to be potent, but Claudia wasn’t one hundred percent sure what all one could do with it. She had planned to consult some books in the library, or ask Dad, but neither option was really on the table right now.

Claudia could hear footsteps on the floor above. She turned off her handlight, and darted to the exit tunnel, but only went far enough to be hidden from immediate view. She could hear the stairs descending into the storage room.

“...Sis? You done with the creepy closet yet?”

Claudia sighed out a breath of relief. It was just Soren back from his scout mission.

Claudia returned to where Soren could see him, but her brother’s attention was transfixed on a bottle of newt eyes and he did not notice her entry.

“Did you find out anything?” Claudia asked, and tried to hide her smirk as Soren jumped.

“Stop sneaking around like that!”

Claudia giggled, but then shrugged and reasoned: “The people who are after us might know about this place. Can’t be too careful.”

Soren did not seem to quite buy the explanation, but he appeared to be willing to let it go. Instead, Soren took on a look that said he was quite pleased with himself. “Well, as a matter of fact, yes, I found out like a _ton_ of information.”

At first, Claudia had been reluctant to let Soren go off on his own. I mean, he wasn’t even fully healed yet! But she’d had to admit that Soren was of no use picking out ingredients - most of them made him squeamish - and they did need to find out more about what was going on in the castle before they could devise an effective rescue plan.

“Did you find out where they're keeping Dad?” Claudia rushed to ask.

Soren smiled smugly. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

Claudia groaned. “Soren.”

Soren raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I saw two patrols worth of guards on their way to the dungeons under East Wing.”

Claudia quickly thought that over, and then her face brightened. “Right! Of course! They would send more guards to where Dad is being held. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I guess we can’t all be the brains in the family”, Soren said, hopefully in jest. “But that isn’t even the most interesting thing I learned when listening in on the guard’s gossiping in the lounge room. You’ll never guess who got here before we did. Starts with an E, and ends in a King. No, wait, that’s not quite right...”

“Soren, we don’t have time for… Wait! Is _Ezran_ here? How?”

Soren nodded, but Claudia still had a hard time believing it. The princes had been adamant about going to Xadia, and had gone through a lot of trouble to shake Claudia and Soren off their tail. The last time she had spoken with Ezran, the boy forgave her for their insistent attempts to capture him and Callum, but he hadn’t said anything about having changed his mind about returning to Katolis.

Soren seemed to guess what was on her mind. “I know right. We tried, like, _really hard_ , and then it’s Corvus who gets all the credit. So not fair.”

Claudia frowned. “What about Callum? Is he okay?”

Soren shrugged. “I didn’t hear anyone mention the step-prince. Just ‘King Ezran this’ and ‘King Ezran that’.”

Last time Claudia had seen Callum, he had looked pretty spent after using dark magic for the first time. Claudia really hoped he had come through it alright. She had tried to warn him, but it wasn't like…

_Wait, what?_

“...Did you just say _King_ Ezran?” Claudia realized belatedly.

The smug expression returned to Soren’s face. “Yup. Looks like we missed the coronation, but that isn’t even the craziest thing I heard today.”

Claudia waved her hands, encouraging Soren to get on with it.

Soren kept a dramatic pause before declaring: “King Ezran announced just today that Pip is the real king. You know, Pip, as in his dad’s pet bird.”

First Soren’s somberness broke into a smirk, and then he burst out laughing. Claudia tilted her head, frowning. “Huh?”

Soren wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, still laughing at his own joke. “I guess we are no longer a monarchy, but an... ornithology.”

Claudia winced and pinched the bridge of her nose. “That is _not_ how words work. You can’t just take two big words that end in a y and…” And in that moment, all the pieces clicked in place in Claudia’s mind, and she froze mid-sentence.

Ezran could talk to animals. Claudia couldn’t explain why or how, but she knew for a fact that Ezran could.

Their Dad had tried to convince King Harrow to swap places with someone using the soulfang, but the king had been stubborn. Their Dad had been really, really upset about that, although he had tried his best to hide it.

_If I told you, you would try to stop me. Goodbye, Claudia._

Claudia facepalmed so hard that it kind of hurt, and groaned. “He didn’t…”

Soren had finally gotten over his own cleverness and looked at Claudia. “Huh?”

Claudia groaned again, and started to pace around in a small circle.

No. He wouldn’t have. Sure, the soulfang plan had been _brilliant_ , it would have totally solved all their problems, but King Harrow had refused. Then again, maybe the king had changed his mind? But if he had, Dad would have told them about it.

Dad would have told _her._

Could a soulfang even be used to transfer a soul from a human to an animal? Well, maybe, if you adjusted the spell radius to account for the… But even then.... But with a little… Yeah, it probably could be done, if the caster was motivated enough.

“Dad totally put King Harrow in a bird”, Claudia mumbled to herself. Soren was looking at her funny.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. The soultransfer thing had been her idea, and she stood by it. It was a truly ingenious plan, and apparently, it had worked. King Harrow had been saved.

But why all the secrecy? Was there a reason why Dad had told no one about it? Maybe the elves had spies in Katolis?

No. Claudia needed to focus. She took in a deep breath. _One thing at a time_.

Their Dad was in big trouble, and needed their help, and he was their Dad. Of course they would help him.

...Even if Dad had ordered Soren to _kill Callum and Ezran_. Which was just insane, and wrong, and made her blood boil, but…

But none of that changed the fact that this was their _Dad_. She trusted their Dad. She _believed_ in him.

“There has to be an explanation”, Claudia stated as evenly as she could in her current state of mind. “There _has_ to be.” She just needed to talk to Dad, and things would start making sense again.


	9. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating for this fic has been upped from “general audiences” to “teen” due to some of the darker themes in this chapter, namely suicidal thoughts and vivid nightmares. The chapter should not be a huge tonal shift, though, nor all angst and sadness.

If this was what dying felt like, it wasn’t as bad as Viren had imagined. He would have preferred to stay in the scene in the study, where he was with his family, but at least he was no longer forcibly taken from one place to the next all the time.

Viren’s body had also returned to normal: no more horns or four-fingered hands. That, Viren supposed, was something to be grateful for, as well.

Viren sighed. He was still leaning against the inside of the mirror, but his leg was starting to ache from all the standing; it seemed his knee refused to be forgotten even in a hallucination.

Viren was stuck. The spirit journey - or whatever this was supposed to be - had come to a screeching halt.

For what felt like hours, Viren had been stuck inside the magic mirror. The view on the other side remained unchanged: the inner sanctum of Thunder’s lair, empty.

Viren had a nagging feeling that all of this should help him unlock the Earth arcanum, somehow. That had been the plan, after all, and Aaravos wouldn’t have tried to kill him for no reason. But maybe Viren had failed.

Perhaps he had been right, and Aaravos wrong. Perhaps Viren was never meant to connect to a primal source. Perhaps Viren did not have what it took to achieve true greatness, and he had been a fool to try.

Perhaps this was how Viren would die.

A humorless smile crept on his face, when his own words - aimed at this mirror, at the time - ringed in his head.

_You're powerless, useless. I thought you were going to be something special, something important!_

In hindsight, Viren could appreciate the appropriateness of telling that to his own reflection. _I am useless, aren’t I?_

Despite his arrogance and seemingly endless faith in himself, a part of Viren had always known he was a fraud. He stole life force and magic from other creatures, and there was power in that, but it made him but a skilled thief, not a true mage.

Next to true power, next to someone like Aaravos, Viren was powerless.

Viren gave up on standing. With some effort, he sat down on the ground - or whatever it was that he was sitting on. His surroundings on this side of the mirror were not the ones that accompanied Aaravos; here, there was nothing. The world in the mirror was a hazy, smoky, twisting darkness that had no form, but it still managed to comprise a floor for him and the mirror to exist on.

Viren nodded to himself. He was not afraid to die.

A part of him almost welcomed it.

Viren had made his peace with death the night he had decided to change places with Harrow so that the other would survive the assassins. Although Viren’s own temper and spitefulness had botched that plan, a part of Viren had not accepted that he would continue to live for much longer.

Viren had pledged himself to death, and she would surely come claim what was rightfully hers. He was living on borrowed time, and so what little time he had left, Viren should not waste.

That was why everything had suddenly become so urgent to him. All Viren’s plans and hopes for a better tomorrow for mankind were now on a tight schedule, the deadline of which he himself did not know for certain.

Viren was not afraid to die. If this was it; if instead of the mercy of oblivion he was sentenced to spend eternity in this accursed mirror, trapped with nothing but his doubts and regrets to keep him company, so be it.

Viren had dealt out fates worse than death to others. It was oddly befitting he should go out in a similar manner.

And yes, Viren had regrets. What man didn’t? His proximity to death seemed to have brought some clarity with it, and so one regret rose above the others: at the end of the day, Viren’s greatest crime had been to tell Claudia to prioritize the dragon egg over the safety of Soren.

_How could I have said that? My children are my greatest accomplishment, the one thing in my life that I have done right. If I die now, nothing is more important than that my children are safe and happy. Both of them._

Come to think of it, Viren shouldn’t have sent his children out on such a dangerous mission to begin with. What if Soren had been found out for killing the princes? What if he had been hanged for his father’s crime?

Viren held his head in his hands for a moment.

It crossed his mind to wonder if this was how Harrow had felt like while waiting for the assassins to come for him. Had it been a moment of clear-sightedness for the king the same way it was now for Viren?

Viren tapped his fingers on his knee, and wondered how Aaravos had managed to remain sane after spending a thousand years trapped like this. Viren hadn’t been here even a day, but he felt like he was about to lose it.

 _If I got a second chance, I would do better_ , Viren promised himself. Then again, he was pretty sure that was what everyone told themselves if they found themselves in a situation such as this.

Perhaps Viren was repentant now, on this moment, but if let loose would always find a way to waste his time, focusing on things that didn’t matter. Perhaps he was incapable of acting wisely regardless of how much time and how many chances he was given.

Perhaps it was a flaw inherent in him. He seemed to certainly have a knack for being his own worst enemy.

Either way, the point was theoretical: even if Viren got out of this mirror world, he would not be given a second chance in real life. Not after everything he had done.

A faint light shone against Viren’s closed eyelids. For a fleeting moment, Viren thought he might be waking up from his stupor, but when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t back in his cell. Viren was still inside the mirror, looking out to the lair of the Dragon King.

There was, however, movement on the other side now. And torchlight.

His children were there. They had come for him, after all.

Viren got up quickly, and started banging his fists against the mirror. “Claudia! Soren! Get out of here! It’s not safe!”

Either Claudia and Soren could not hear him, or they chose to disobey him, because the moment they saw the mirror, they pointed at it and started coming towards Viren.

Viren’s children were their normal teenaged selves, this time, wearing the same clothes they had when Viren had last seen them.

Viren tried to wave his hands to indicate that they needed to go. “Leave”, he mouthed as clearly as he could, hoping they would heed his warning.

His children kept coming closer, and as they did, it was clear they could see him. They looked straight at Viren, and Soren even gave him the thumbs up. Viren groaned.

Claudia came over to the mirror and started taking out spell ingredients from her satchel.

“No!” Viren shouted, still banging his fists against the mirror. “There is no time for that!”

“ _Leave_ ”, he pleaded rather than commanded, but it was too late.

There was a blinding flash of light, and the gigantic form of Thunder materialized on the other side of the chamber.

Viren stared in horror as his children turned to face the monster. Viren looked on helplessly as Thunder opened his mouth, and the room filled with countless threads of energy and light. Viren screamed as he watched the lightning struck his children, and their bodies convulsed on the ground.

“NOOOOO!”

 

***

 

Viren woke up with a gasp. His heart was racing and his breathing was uneven, but as he made to sit up, he realized he was no longer dreaming.

Viren wasn’t sure where he was, but he was lying on an actual bed in a room that had a row of small windows. His hands were no longer tied to a wall, but shackled in front of him.

There were four guards standing around his bed. They looked alarmed by his sudden movement.

Most importantly, however, Aaravos was there, standing by his bedside. “ _You’re awake_ ”, he said almost fondly, looking more excited than Viren had ever seen him.

Viren closed his eyes for a moment and tried to even out his breathing.

 _It wasn’t real. None of it was real. Claudia and Soren are fine_.

Viren opened his eyes and looked to Aaravos again. Aaravos had an expectant look on his face. There was curiosity and maybe even a sliver of relief behind his smile.

“Get back down”, one of the guards ordered. Viren turned to stare at the guard, and after a moment of processing, he laid back down on the bed.

“Where am I?” he breathed out.

“At the healing rooms”, another guard answered. “You had some kind of seizure, sir.”

Viren took another look at his surroundings. Healing rooms. The ones meant for the Crownguard. He’d been here once, years ago, when Soren had broken an arm in a practice fight.

The room was long and narrow and housed many beds, but Viren’s was the only one currently occupied. If there were guards in need of a place to recover in - Viren himself had probably hospitalized several of them earlier in the week - they must have been moved elsewhere before the guards had brought him here.

There was a row of small windows on the far side of the room, and sunlight streamed in from them. For a moment, Viren stopped to stare at the light in wonder.

He was alive.

But he couldn’t afford to waste his time staring at a window. There were too many questions that needed answering.

Viren turned to the guard closest to him, the one who had spoken first. “Where is Commander Gren?”

Viren’s mind still felt hazy from his dreaming, but he remembered quite clearly that Gren had been next to him in the cell moments before Viren had passed out.

“I think he went to sent out some crows, sir”, answered another, younger guard to Viren’s left.

“Hey!” the other guard warned him. “He’s a prisoner. Don’t answer his questions.”

Viren nodded to himself. Gren had probably gone to send a crow to General Amaya. Gren’s loyalties were first and foremost to the head of the Joint Forces, and it probably was his responsibility to inform her of everything that went on in the Capital.

It wasn’t really surprising that Gren wasn’t here, sitting by Viren’s bedside. It was, however, inconvenient.

There was so much Viren needed to know - foremost on his mind was the question of how his children were fairing - but he doubted these random guards would have the answers. Viren would just have to hope he would get a chance to talk to Gren before they locked him in his cell again.

“How long was I out of it?” Viren asked, seemingly from the guards, but his eyes moved to Aaravos.

The guards bickered amongst themselves, unsure if they should answer Viren’s questions or not, but Aaravos supplied an answer: “ _Almost three hours. Longer than I expected. I was beginning to worry._ ”

Viren nodded.

He really needed to speak with Aaravos, but to do so here, in front of the guards, would probably spook them.

Then again, the guards were already spooked. But Viren didn’t want them to think he was crazy.

...Except that they almost certainly already thought him insane.

His mind made up, Viren ignored the guards and asked Aaravos: “What was that? The visions: were they real or imaginary? Did you make them happen?”

Aaravos tilted his head. “ _That depends. What did you see? Or perhaps more importantly: how is your connection to the Earth arcanum coming along?_ ”

Viren frowned. Had all of that truly been about him having some kind of moment of revelation about the Earth primal?

He realized belatedly that he should be angry with Aaravos for his attempt on Viren’s life, but Viren could only summon mild exasperation as he asked: “That’s what it was all about?”

A guard was trying to tell Viren to keep quiet, but he ignored the man.

Aaravos looked serious: “ _I wish it had not been necessary, but it was. A brush with death helps to focus the mind._ ”

“You could have warned me”, Viren said.

“ _I could have, but knowing there was no true danger may have lessened the effectiveness._ ”

Viren’s eyes narrowed at Aaravos’ implication that Viren hadn’t been in real danger. To him, the danger had felt quite real.

Aaravos looked as close to apologetic as Viren had ever seen the elf. He placed his hand over Viren’s. “ _True change, a metamorphosis, if you will, is never easy. A near-death experience can clear the mind of unnecessary clutter, and in-between stage of being can sometimes grant visions. As far as methods of dying and being brought back are concerned, asphyxiation is, in my experience, the safest and surest method._ ”

Viren thought that over. Had Aaravos himself had to nearly die to connect to each of the primals? Was that how it worked? It would at least partially explain why such connections were uncommon to the point of unheard of.

“ _...Well?_ ” Aaravos prodded.

Viren blinked. Right. The Earth arcanum. Had any of his visions helped him understand its true nature?

...Not really. Maybe the part about the butterfly? Something to do with the living side of Earth?

Viren’s confusion most have been written plainly on his face, since Aaravos frowned impatiently. “ _Nothing?_ ”

Viren closed his eyes, trying to put it all together. He certainly felt like he had learned something important during his time in the mirror, but what?

Viren heard footsteps, and a familiar voice approaching.

“...And you can’t give any kind of estimation as to when he might be coming to?”

The door to the healing rooms opened, and in walked Commander Gren and the elderly healer woman who had patched up Viren’s infected leg earlier.

They both looked quite surprised to see Viren. Well, to see him back in the land of the living, he supposed.

A smile spread over Gren’s face, and he stepped closer. “Oh _good_ , you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

The healer walked through Aaravos as she came to check Viren’s eyes. Humming to herself happily, she commented: “You gave us quite the scare, young man.”

Viren felt a bit overwhelmed, but propped himself up on his elbows the best he could, given the handcuffs, and tried to focus. He turned his attention to Gren: “I’m not… dead? I mean… What do you care?”

Only after Viren had already spoken it occurred to him that he perhaps should have thanked them for the trouble they had clearly gone through to keep him alive.

Gren’s smile widened, and as far as Viren could tell, his joy was genuine. “We didn’t really know what was wrong with you - we still don’t, actually - but I’m glad to see you are feeling better.”

Gren came to stand by his bed and pulled out a chair to sit in. “Do _you_ have any idea what happened to you? Is this something we will need to watch out for in the future?” Gren looked like he truly wanted to know.

Viren glanced at Aaravos. The elf’s expression had closed off. He looked thoughtful, but other than that Viren could not read him.

Viren didn’t know how to explain what had happened to him, but Gren was still looking at him expectantly, so he tried: “I…” (glance to Aaravos) “I don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Or should I?” he added, addressing Aaravos directly.

Aaravos met Viren’s gaze and simply smiled his usual charming smile. It wasn’t really an answer. Viren squinted his eyes at the elf.

“Aaalrightie”, Gren drawled out, and turned to address the healer: “Everything okay with him? Any idea when it’ll be safe to move him?”

The healer woman had been fussing over Viren, checking his pupils, his pulse, if he had fever. “It doesn’t look like he’s worse for wear, really”, she said. “But I’d rather keep him here for at least a day or so, so I can keep an eye on his recovery.”

Gren sighed. “I understand your concern, but the king has ordered that he wants to speak with Lord Viren as soon as possible. Is there a possibility we could already move him today?

The king wanted to speak with him? Viren tried to think what about. It had to have something to do with Queen Aanya and her midnight visit, he guessed.

The healer was about to answer, but Viren, tired of being spoken about as if he was not present, cut in: “I am as fine as I am going to get. We should not keep our king waiting.”

Gren looked surprised, but then he smiled, nodded, and started handing out orders to the guards.

Aaravos gave Viren a meaningful look, and asked: “ _Was that wise?_ ”

“I don’t see any point in stalling”, Viren answered almost defiantly and shrugged. Two guards grabbed Viren under the elbows and hoisted him to his feet. They tied a set of chains to his handcuffs, and took hold of the ends.

Viren felt a little unsteady on his feet, but he grit his teeth, determined not to have to be escorted around like an elderly person.

The guards took their places in a formation all around Viren. There were more guards outside the healing rooms, and when Viren was walked out, those guards also assumed positions as part of the procession.

Aaravos walked on Viren’s right side; Commander Gren on his left.

“Soooo”, Gren began. “Mind telling me who you were talking to back there?”

Viren glanced at Gren, a little surprised. The guards had not dared to ask him that.

He considered what he should say and settled for: “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me.” There was something very earnest about the Commander. He sounded like he truly wanted to know.

An idea occurred to Viren: “I’ll tell you, but only if you first tell me if there has been any word on my children’s whereabouts or wellbeing.”

An odd look crossed Gren’s face, but he nodded. “Okay. Sure. There has. They arrived in Katolis this morning.”

“What?!” Viren stopped and fully turned to look at the man, trying to identify any deception on his face. He saw none. “How are they?”

The guards pulled at the chains to keep Viren from getting too close to the Commander, but Gren simply raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Claudia and Soren were perfectly fine last time anyone saw them. They did, however, successfully resist arrest and run away, so no one is quite sure where they are at the moment.”

Viren stared at Gren. His children were in Katolis, and King Ezran had tried to _have them arrested_?

Viren closed his eyes. That should not have come to him as a surprise, but it did. He just hadn’t thought Ezran had it in him.

So, Claudia and Soren _were_ in real danger, thanks to Viren.

 _At least they are alright_ , Viren assured himself. _They were here just this morning, and they were alright. There is not a lot that could have gone wrong since then._

A large weight was lifted off of Viren’s shoulders, even though a knot of worry still remained.

The guards tucked at the chains, and Viren was forced to keep walking. Without his cane, the going was painful and slow, but he tried to keep pace with the commander walking next to him.

“So, about your mystery companion?” Gren asked in turn.

Viren looked to Aaravos.

“ _You cannot trust them. Whatever you tell them, they will use it against you._ ”

Aaravos was probably right. However, Viren had given his word.

“Do you remember the magic mirror I kept in the same dungeon where I kept you?” he began.

Gren nodded eagerly.

“Through it, I was able to connect to an ancient Startouched Elf called Aaravos.”

“The elf in the mirror”, Gren nodded, not sounding even a bit surprised.

“...You knew?” Viren frowned.

Gren looked just a bit sheepish as he said: “Well, you have been talking to yourself for almost a week now.”

Viren paused, letting the implications sink in. “And you have been _listening in on me_?”

Gren smiled a strained smile that answered the question for him.

Viren wasn’t sure whether to be angry or impressed. It was probably just as well that there were some halfway competent people left in Katolis, helping keep the kingdom safe.

It nonetheless raised the question of what all Gren had heard Viren say.

“And you can still talk to the elf, although you no longer have access to the mirror, and despite the long distance to Xadia?” Gren asked.

Viren turned to look at Aaravos. The elf gave him a look of warning. Aaravos clearly thought it was a very stupid idea for Viren to be telling any of this to his captors.

Viren shook his head. Though his eyes never left Aaravos’, Viren answered Gren: “I don’t think he is in Xadia. I think the mirror acts as a portal to somewhere considerably weirder.”

Viren didn’t mean to betray Aaravos. He truly did not. Aaravos was his best chance of escaping Katolis. Not to mention that Aaravos had stayed by his side, as he had promised to do, when everyone else had turned their backs on Viren.

Aaravos was the closest thing Viren had to a friend.

However, there was something about Gren’s demeanor that forced to the surface a side of Viren he usually kept buried: the side that held onto old-fashioned concepts such as honor and keeping true to his word. Very few people apart from King Harrow ever got to see that side of him.

“Can you actually see him?” Gren asked, his eyes looking at where Viren’s had been looking at just a moment ago. “Here and now?”

Viren sighed. “Yes, but he isn’t really here. It’s a... magical connection.”

That answer was mostly truthful. Viren had left out the specifics about him forming a blood bond with Aaravos. Well, that, and the part about the creepy centipede that had crawled into his ear.

Viren couldn’t actually feel the creature moving inside him, but he grimaced in disgust just thinking about the possibility.

Gren nodded, and then looked perplexed: “And you trust him? Although he is an elf?”

Viren opened his mouth to confirm that he did, only to realize he needed time to form an answer that would leave him sounding anything other than genuinely insane.

There was a strange sound emanating from the corridor ahead of them. It sounded like many feet scuttling on the stone floor, but they did not sound like human feet. The situation was so odd it interrupted Viren’s train of thought.

The guard leading the way lifted her hand, signaling for the rest to stop while she tried to determine what had caused the sound. The woman had only taken a couple of steps forward, when suddenly the corridor was full of sounds and colors.

A dozen pink cockroaches the size of large dogs came scuttling down the corridor. There were surprised and disgusted yelps from the guards: they dropped the chains they’d been holding as they moved hurriedly to unsheathe their swords before the odd monstrosities would be upon them.

Viren blinked. Twice.

_Claudia…?_

Had to be. Viren knew this spell; this illusion. He had taught it to his daughter. Although Viren had never quite understood Claudia’s preference for making everything she created pink, he was grateful for it now. Otherwise he might have wasted precious seconds determining who was behind the roaches.

Viren glanced around himself, trying to see where his children actually were.

“Surprise!” Soren yelled, and tackled Gren to the ground. The commander went down with less resistance than Viren had expected, but Viren probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Although the mage did not know much about sword fighting, he knew that his son was very good at it. One of the best in Katolis, or so he had been told. Not that Viren had shown much interest in that sort of accomplishments in the past.

“Soren! What are you doing here?” Viren asked, incredulous. He was relieved to see Soren alive and well, but Viren also felt like he was one step behind whatever the plan was.

“What does it look like? We’re here to rescue you.” Soren grinned at him, but then his eyes focused on something behind Viren’s back. “Dad, look out!”

Soren pushed Viren so forcefully that the older man lost his balance and ended up on his knees on the floor. A painful shudder went up his weaker leg, paralyzing Viren for a moment.

When Viren recovered from the pain and surprise, and looked up, he noticed something had changed: an arrow was sticking out of his son’s armpit.

For a brief moment, Viren thought he must be imagining it, since Soren himself didn’t so much as wince, nevermind yell or fall down on the ground.

Then the situation truly dawned on him.

 _This can’t be happening_ , was all Viren could think about. _I cannot lose him. I cannot lose my son. Not again._

In that moment, Viren understood what he should do. Suddenly, it all felt clear as day to him; like something deep inside of him clicked into place.

Viren was connected to his children, and through them, to the world. Whether he asked for their help or not, Claudia and Soren had been there for Viren when he needed them. They reminded him to eat, and go to bed, and take a break from his work every once in a while. When Viren’s thoughts and emotions ran wild, his children’s presence grounded him, forcing him to focus on the basics.

Viren’s children were precious to him, and not because of what they could do, or what they had accomplished, or what he could use them for. And if that rule applied to his children, then why not to everybody else as well? Maybe even to all living things.

The mere idea of _using his children_ made Viren wince, although he recognized that that was what he had been doing for years: Viren had been taking advantage of his children’s trust and loyalty. He had used them.

Viren would apologize to them for that later. For there to be a later, however, they all needed to get out of here in one piece.

Viren began casting, and was beyond grateful as he felt primal magic seep from the stone floor into the rune he was haphazardly drawing with his bound hands. Worked stone, Viren understood intuitively, was not the best possible source of power, but in a pinch it would do. The spell was also powered by Viren’s determination, the piece inside of him that connected him to Earth, and he was very determined indeed.

Viren’s hands were shaky, but luckily Viren could have drawn this particular rune in his sleep, if he had to; it was one of the first spells Viren had ever learned. Viren had never been in possession of an Earth primal stone, and so he had never been able to cast the spell in its original form, but Viren’s master had still made him learn and memorize the original primal spell while they searched for suitable dark magic alternatives. To think of all the times as a boy, when Viren had practiced this spell in secret, hoping against hope that the magic would work for him. It never had.

“ _Crescere_ ”, Viren intoned to finish the casting.

The corridor wasn’t very far from the healing rooms. On one side of the corridor, near the windows, there were large pots with aromatic herbs growing in them. Viren hadn’t paid much attention to them before, but now he focused on them as hard as he could.

On a normal day, the plants were probably used for some medicinal purpose. Today, however, they ballooned at such a pace that they quickly outgrew their usual constraints, and started filling the corridor with fresh vines and leafs.

For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. The scene was unbelievable, but not obviously harmful, after all. Even the cockroaches seemed to have stopped to stare. Then the first of the grasping vines found its way to a soldier’s foot, and _tugged_ , lifting the man off the ground, and the scene came back to life.

The plants were able to grasp a few more limbs here and there, but most of the guards had recovered from the surprise, and remembered they were in possession of sharp cutting tools. They started hacking through the vines with little difficulty; herbs were apparently not the finest source material for this sort of spell.

“Come on, Soren, we gotta get out of here.”

Viren turned to look, and where a moment ago Soren had been standing alone, now stood both his children. For a moment Viren was so proud of Claudia for having kept herself shrouded through all the pandemonium.

She saw him, and yelled: “Dad!”

Viren glanced at the soldiers. They would reach them very soon. Too soon.

“Get your brother out of here!” Viren ordered Claudia. “I will hold them off”, he breathed out, barely louder than a whisper.

Next to his children stood a beautiful elf, still invisible to all but Viren. Unlike everyone else on the corridor, Aaravos wasn’t sweating, or crouching, or struggling with overgrown plants. Amidst all the chaos, he looked as unreachable as distant stars.

“ _What do you need?_ ” Aaravos asked in his deep baritone voice.

Viren only thought for a heartbeat, before answering: “I need to get my children out of here safely, but I’m not sure I know enough Earth magic to do it alone.”

_If I don’t manage to get them out of here unharmed… that is a risk I cannot take!_

Viren had a feeling that he was making a mistake, but on the other hand, if connecting with Aaravos again guaranteed his children’s safety, Viren couldn’t imagine he would come to regret the decision, either.

Aaravos smiled mischievously. “ _I thought you’d never ask._ ”

Aaravos’ eyes began to glow. Viren realized distantly that his eyes were glowing as well.

 _Without your staff to power our connection_ , Aaravos thought inside Viren’s head, _I can only cast the kinds of primal spells you could access yourself. For now, I can only use spells from the Earth domain._

Viren nodded, or maybe just thought about nodding. Aaravos would not need to see his nod to know it. Their minds were one.

Aaravos was already drawing a complicated-looking rune, and although Viren had not seen it before, it felt familiar to him. He knew how to cast it.

“ _Motus_ ”, Viren intoned, and slammed his hands against the stone floor. Rifts of magic spread from his fingers to the floor, the wall, and the ceiling, and the whole castle began to tremble.


	10. Escape

The whole castle was shaking. Viren knew this, because he could feel the vibrations emanating all the way from the bedrock the castle was built upon. He was drawing strength not just from Aaravos, but from the depths of the earth, from the slow-building pressure of rock grinding against rock, which now yearned for a release.

The power was intoxicating and nearly over-whelming, but Viren realized he would have to reign it in to make better use of it. He didn’t want to collapse the whole keep, after all, when a single corridor would do.

Viren gathered and focused the tremors from the rest of the castle to the corridor he was in. The floor under his knees had been shaking ever since he said the release word, but now it began to quake in earnest.

The ceiling was vaulted. Viren was no expert on architecture, but he did like to read, and so he knew that without its keystones, the vault would destabilize.

The final point to consider was that Viren and his children were still standing in said corridor, but Viren was confident he could aim the destruction correctly, and even if he could not, either he or Aaravos would be able to keep any rocks from falling on top of them.

 _Alright, time to bring this place down._ The fissures spread from the walls up to the ceiling, and the keystones cracked theatrically one after another.

The guards had been wading through dead plant matter to get to Viren and his children, but now most of them simply stared in horror at the scene before them. A few still valiantly pointed their bows at Viren, but the ground they were standing on was shaking so violently that they had trouble staying on their feet, never mind aiming their shots. Most of them opted not to release their arrows under such circumstances, and out of those who did, none managed to land a hit anywhere near their target.

When the guards noticed the cracks on the ceiling, almost as one they turned around and started running for the round staircase at the other end of the corridor. This was fine by Viren. He didn’t want to kill the guards unless he absolutely had to.

The ceiling came crashing down faster than Viren had expected.

Viren had been right in his assessment that he would be able to keep the corridor intact where he and his children were standing. A dazed Commander Gren was still sprawled on the ground at Soren’s feet, so he was safe as well, but not all the guards were as lucky.

Viren only hesitated an instant before swinging his shackled hands in air to cast a quick rune of his own. “ _Levitate!_ ”

The largest pieces of rubble stopped mid air, held up by Viren’s power.

The guards stared at the rocks floating above them, and then turned to look at Viren. Viren nudged his head towards the staircase. None of the guards stayed to argue him on it.

Viren wondered briefly what he looked like right now to scare them so. Perhaps these particular guards had been present the last time he fought back. Viren felt a twinge of guilt at the thought.

Once the guards were a safe distance away, Viren moved the rocks he’d been holding, and dropped them so that they partly blocked the doorway to the staircase.

Viren got up. It wasn’t the most graceful of movements, but at least his knee felt relatively secure under his weight.

“Dad!” Claudia yelled again, dashed over to him, and hugged him.

Viren was taken aback by such a genuine and warm gesture in such a terrible situation. Viren wasn’t able to hug back because his hands were still cuffed, but a part of him wanted nothing more than to stay right there and hug both of his children until they forgave him.

A more rational part of Viren knew that this was not the time nor the place for such displays of emotion.

Claudia pulled out of the hug to look at him. “Dad, that was incredible! But it was primal magic! How? We don’t have an Earth primal stone…”

“There’s no time. I’ll explain later”, Viren said, finding that his voice sounded at the same time monotonous and strangely multi-layered. His connection to Aaravos was still strong. Addressing both his children, Viren went on: “We need to get out of here.”

If Claudia was alarmed by her father’s strange tone of voice or his still-glowing eyes, her face did not show it. She nodded at him, the look of amazement on her face replaced by a look of determination. Claudia pulled something from her satchel. “Eat this.”

Viren opened his mouth to argue, but instead got a mouthful of something salty, hairy, and unpleasant-tasting. Viren chewed and swallowed it quickly, trusting his daughter to know what she was doing.

“You too”, Claudia said to her brother as Soren came to stand next to them while still keeping his eyes on Gren, should the soldier try something on them.

Soren looked at the piece of meat in her hand, and his face looked utterly disgusted. “No way I’m putting that in my…”

“Soren! Now!” Claudia yelled irritatedly. Viren wasn’t sure if he had ever heard her sound so stressed.

Viren glanced towards the staircase, which he could hardly see for all the dust left behind by the collapse. But he knew the guards had not gone far, and would soon find another way to come at them. Viren’s eyes landed on Aaravos, who was standing a little distance away from them, also looking towards the staircase.

 _Run. I will keep an eye on them_ , Aaravos said without turning to face Viren. Viren nodded a quick thanks at him anyway.

Viren could feel Claudia’s spell taking hold of him; his movements felt more effortless and pain-free than they had any right to be, as if gravity had decided to take things easy on him for a day. Viren was amazed by his daughter’s ingenuity and power, but he also knew that with magic this potent, the result would not last long.

“This way”, Claudia said, and started running unusually agilely towards the non-collapsed end of the corridor. Instead of immediately running after her, Soren looked at Viren, and motioned for him to go first.

 _Such a foolish, sentimental boy_ , Viren thought to himself, but there was no time to argue now, so he went after Claudia, letting Soren take the rear.

"I'm not sure you should..." Commander Gren started to say from behind them, but none of them stayed to hear him out.

 _Soren better not be planning on taking any more arrows for me,_ Viren thought sourly.

Glancing at his son, Viren realized Soren had at some point snapped broken the arrow that had hit him rather than having pulled it out altogether. That probably was the wisest choice: pulling it out would just make it bleed worse. To Viren’s relief, however, Soren did not look like he was in pain. He seemed to barely notice his injury, and it did not slow him down, which Viren hoped meant the arrow had not wounded him seriously.

They hadn’t gone very far, just down one set of stairs and through two more corridors, when Claudia stopped in front of a decorative armor display, knelt down, and started fiddling with something behind the display stand. Soren ran over to her to hold a position where he could have his sister’s back.

Viren realized with a jolt of pride that his children really had planned this escape, rather than bursting in and improvising.

He could feel the jackalope foot’s effect wearing off, but if they got into the secret tunnels, they would be less likely to run into resistance, and could lose any potential followers in the labyrinthine maze under the castle.

“Stop right there!”

Viren stepped between the lone Crownguard soldier who had just rounded a corner, and where his children were.

Aaravos was next to Viren, already busy at work, drawing another complicated looking rune. Aaravos’ gestures were fast and efficient, but also breathtakingly beautiful; it looked more like interpretative dancing than spellcasting. Viren realized distantly, and with no small amount of envy, that it would take him years of practice to be able to draw runes that well, even if his hands weren’t tied.

The guard approached them with a sword in hand, somehow oblivious to the immediate danger he was in.

Aaravos was done drawing the rune. The spell was charged and ready to cast, but Viren hesitated.

 _Well?_ Aaravos prodded.  

Viren didn’t know this spell, but at the same time he did. The rune itself was unfamiliar to him, but through his connection to Aaravos, Viren knew what words would make it come alive, and could even feel what the spell’s effect would be.

Viren felt the spell’s power coursing through him as well as Aaravos, asking to be released upon this unsuspecting target.

Viren looked at the guard. There was a look of fear dawning on the soldier’s face, but not fast enough that he would get out of the way.

 _He is..._ Viren thought to himself. _He is just doing his job, and although I don’t know him, he is a human being. He is somebody else’s Soren._

The spell was already charged. It needed an outlet, a living target.

Viren pointed his finger at a house plant placed behind the guard, and let the power of the spell flow through him. “ _Petrify._ ”

The plant turned to stone. The guard wet himself, and scrambled away.

Viren looked to Aaravos, and felt a cold anger move inside him. _You have literally countless spells at your disposal! Why on earth would you opt for one that is so instantaneously lethal?!_

Aaravos tilted his head. The gesture looked mildly curious, but also patronizing. _You asked for my help, and I helped you to the best of my ability. What else did you expect?_

Viren’s eyes widened in anger. _Expect?! You knew I didn’t want the guards to get hurt!_

Aaravos shrugged. _If that is indeed the case, then you should have specified_.

Viren blinked, unable to believe what he was hearing. _...You’re the one who told me that all life is precious._

Aaravos rolled his eyes at that. _Sure it is, in an abstract sort of way, but this is the real world. You matter, these guards do not, so why take chances with it?_

Viren was so angry at Aaravos that he felt their connection break. Viren stumbled a bit as the sudden emptiness inside him left him feeling like a man who’d just had the carpet pulled out from under him.

Viren realized belatedly that Soren was hovering behind him, ready to support his father should he fall. Viren brushed him off with a wave of his hand, and followed Claudia to the now-open tunnel entrance.

 

***

 

Now that Claudia’s spell and most of the adrenaline had worn off, Viren found that he could not keep pace with his children. Soren was the first to catch on to that.

“Hey Claudia, wait up.”

Claudia was leading the way through the tunnels, her handlight showing them the way. Now she stopped, glancing back at Soren, and then, for the first time since they had escaped into the secret tunnels, Claudia turned to look his father in the eye. “What?!” she asked unusually snappily.

Soren came to stand by Viren’s side, offering an arm for support. “It’s Dad’s leg”, Soren said matter-of-factly. “We might need to slow down a bit.”

Claudia huffed, and looked at Viren with a look of irritation, and something else in her eyes that wasn’t normally there: suspicion.

Viren’s surprise must have shown on his face, since Claudia’s expression softened quickly. “Of course”, she said, sounding more like her usual good-humored self again, and nodded. “We’ll take it easy.”

Claudia glanced around nervously, but there was still no sign that anyone was following them. There was no one here but their family and Aaravos. Not that Claudia was able to see the elf.

Aaravos had been unusually quiet ever since Viren had broken their connection, but Viren was too exhausted to care if he had hurt the elf’s feelings.

 _You were supposed to help me_ , Viren thought angrily as he glared at Aaravos. He wasn't sure if Aaravos could actually hear his thoughts at all times or not, but he hoped Aaravos was listening in now.  _We were supposed to be in this together._ The elf was looking at him in the eye, but said nothing.

Viren didn’t say anything out loud, either. He would have to tell his children about Aaravos eventually, but now was not a good time. They would have that conversation once they had all exited the city safely.

Which reminded him…

“Where is the mirror?” Viren asked, namely from both of his children, but he looked to Claudia. She would know which mirror he was talking about.

Claudia sighed, and turned towards them again. “I don’t know”, she said, sounding a bit frustrated. “We went by your study, and the secret dungeon, but it wasn’t there. The guards must have moved it. It could be anywhere in the castle.”

“That mirror is very important”, Viren went on, keeping his own voice calm and matter-of-fact. “We need to go back for it.”

Claudia leveled an angry glare at him. “Important, is it? Well why didn’t you just say so right away. Of course we should return to the castle we only barely escaped the first time around, and risk our lives searching for it.”

Claudia swung her arms in wild arcs, her anger bursting out of her like an erupting volcano. “In fact, just so we’re all on the same page here, is the mirror more important than the Dragon Prince’s egg, or not quite that important, but still more important than me and Soren?”

Viren gasped. Claudia, his sweet little Claudia, had never spoken to him in such a tone.

“It’s… It’s not that important”, Viren managed to get out.

Claudia did not wait for a more elaborate explanation. She nodded sharply at Viren, turned around, and walked ahead at a frisk pace.

“Dad…?” Soren asked hesitantly.

“Your sister is right”, Viren said. “We should keep moving.”

Viren started walking again, trying to keep up with Claudia’s pace through gritted teeth. Soren took some of the weight off of Viren’s weaker leg, and Viren was grateful for this, but he did not make eye contact with his son.

Viren could not look either of his children in the eye right now.

 

***

 

The tremors had subsided, but everyone in the Throne Room was still holding on to something solid, just in case.

“Was that an earthquake?” Ezran asked. He wasn’t really sure. Ezran had never been in an earthquake before, since they didn’t usually happen in Katolis, and he had only once in his life been very far from home. He and Callum and Rayla hadn’t come across one during their travels, either, but what else could it have been?

“I can go check what’s going on, your majesty”, Corvus offered and bowed at him, but Opeli stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“You stay by your king’s side, soldier. In fact, everyone!” Opeli looked around the room, and all the guards present focused their attention on her. “Get to defensive positions immediately. Guard every door. No one must enter this room without us knowing about it.”

Ezran frowned. “But what if someone out there needs our help? Shouldn’t we go out to investigate?”

Opeli turned to look at him with a strained, but still polite and very patient look on her face. “Whatever is going on out there, your majesty, it is somebody else’s duty to take care of it. Our duty is to protect our king.”

That made Ezran feel a little uneasy. He didn’t want to get hurt, of course not, but he didn’t know how to feel about the idea that his life somehow mattered more than other people’s lives. That didn’t feel right to him.

Ezran’s Dad was sitting on his son’s shoulder, and Ezran could feel Harrow’s talons dig a bit deeper into his arm. Not in a way that hurt, but it was also clear Dad was not used to being a bird. Ezran petted the bird’s head to calm him down. “Don’t worry, Dad. Nothing bad is going to happen to us here.”

Dad assured Ezran he wasn’t worried, but he seemed really tense, all the same.

The look on Opeli’s face would have been pretty funny on any other day, but now it just made Ezran feel a little frustrated. _They still don’t believe me._

No, that wasn’t quite fair. They probably did believe Ezran. People like Opeli just didn’t know how to feel about it. When he had told Opeli that his Dad was in Pip’s body, she had been kind of shocked, at first, but then she’d gone on a whole rant about “lines of succession” or “unprecedented circumstances”.

Opeli still called Ezran king, although Dad was right here, too. Should he ask her not to? Maybe later.

Ezran was really happy he had kept Dad with him at all times. He was really happy to have his Dad back, period, but the last thing he wanted to worry about right now was whether Dad was okay or not.

Losing Dad once had been bad enough, but losing him now, after they’d been given this miraculous second chance? No way. Ezran would not let that happen.

He loved his Dad more than anyone else in the whole wide world, except maybe Callum. And he needed his Dad, now more than ever. Everyone still expected Ezran to have all the answers, and know what to do.

Dad had told Ezran that he had not chosen to be put in a bird. Dad was really angry at Viren for doing it, and Ezran could kind of understand why.

 _Poor Pip! He must have been so scared and confused!_ Just thinking about it made Ezran’s heart ache.

That said, Ezran wasn’t angry at Lord Viren for putting his Dad’s soul in a bird. Not really. It was weird, but the main thing was that Dad was alive and well. How could Ezran have been very angry, when what Viren had done meant he got to have his Dad back?

Ugh, Ezran really wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. He knew Dad wanted to speak with Viren immediately, and he would need Ezran there to interpret for him, but Ezran also felt like it wasn’t his place to be listening in when the grown-ups argued. He knew Dad and Viren argued all the time, sometimes even playfully, but something told him this time would be bad.

Would Ezran even be able to convey how angry Dad was, when he himself just kind of wanted to hug the High Mage for having saved his Dad’s life? Regardless of all the other stuff Viren had done, saving Dad’s life had been a good thing. Even if done in a sort of bad way.

After what must have been just a couple of minutes, but had felt a lot longer, there was a loud knock on the doors to the Throne Room.

Dad was kind of heavy, but Ezran did not want to say anything about it or put him down, so the child king had instead gone to sit on his throne. Ezran had been slouching in the too-big-for-him chair, but now he sat up straighter.

Opeli gestured for the guards to open the doors, still on alert. Behind the doors stood two members of the Crownguard. Everyone relaxed their poses.

Ezran didn’t know the guards’ names - he really should learn them all at some point - but he got up and waved his hand to greet them in.

The guards bowed deeply. Ezran rolled his eyes. Why did everyone have to be so formal around him at all times?

“King Ezran, we come bearing bad news”, one of the guards said, still bowing her head at him.

Ezran’s eyes widened in worry. “What happened? Did someone get hurt in the earthquake?”

The guard who had spoken looked bewildered. “Um, no, not to my knowledge, sir. I don’t think anyone got hurt, or at least not badly”, she clarified, and then her expression became stern again. “But the prisoner, Lord Viren, has just escaped, and I regret to inform you that we don’t know where he is.”

Ezran and Dad exchanged worried looks.

 _Well, that can’t be good_ , Ezran thought to himself.


	11. The Talk

So far, sneaking out of the castle had been slow going, but also mercifully uneventful.

The trickiest part would be getting from the castle to the city undetected. For security reasons, there was only one drawbridge that connected the castle to the city. The gate was normally open, but under the circumstances it was reasonable to assume the whole castle was in a state of lockdown, with the gate closed and heavily guarded, creating a bottleneck for anyone wishing to enter or exit Katolis castle.

After a terse conversation with Claudia, comparing what magics they still had at their disposal, Viren suggested they bypass the drawbridge and the city altogether by using earth magic to break directly out of the tunnels, climb down the side of the cliff, and head for the forests that surround the city.

Viren had explained to Claudia that he could, for the time being, use earth magic without a primal stone, but he hadn't gone into detail about how. Explaining that it was possible for a human to forge a lasting connection to a primal source, not to mention how he had come about such a fantastic discovery in such a short time, would have required Viren to tell his children about Aaravos, and that was not an argument they should be having while in the process of escaping Katolis.

Despite how angry she was with him, Claudia was curious about her father's new magical powers, and she'd been highly unsatisfied with his lack of answers. Viren had eventually managed to convince Claudia to just go with it for the time being by promising that he would teach her all of this later.

The more Viren thought about it, the more convinced he was that he should teach primal magics to Claudia at the first opportunity, but the ‘how’ could prove problematic; Viren was unwilling to endanger his daughter's life, and he did not know of a safe way to unlock an arcanum. Beyond that, Viren had a hard time picturing her daughter connecting to Earth as her first primal source; she was one of the most air-headed people he knew.

They would cross that bridge when they got there. For now, Viren had to focus on the task at hand.

Claudia opened the lock on Viren’s handcuffs with a magical powder. He could move his hands freely for the first time since his imprisonment had begun.

Aaravos still wasn't talking to him, so Viren had to figure out on his own how to determine the thickness of natural rock, and how to break it without making too much of a ruckus, or compromising the structure of the existing tunnels.

After a bit of trial and error, Viren decided to modify the earthquake spell from before to something smaller and more precise. With it, he could crumble the rocks rather than move the walls as such. This meant they had to wade through quite a bit of rubble, but at least they were making progress.

Viren had no idea how much primal magic he could cast without exhausting himself. Whatever the limit was, he had not crossed it yet, but he could feel himself getting more and more tired after each new casting.

He had no first hand experience with this type of magic, but most magical theories Viren had read about suggested the limits of a primal mage’s endurance varied based on experience level, spells used, and proximity to the primal source or a magical nexus.

 _At least being close to the source should not prove an issue_ , Viren thought while drudging through rocks and rubble. Maybe this hadn’t been one of his best plans, but he’d be damned if he turned to Aaravos for help with every little obstacle he faced.

Casting earth magic on rocks and minerals was slow work, just as Aaravos had warned Viren that it would be. That said, Viren felt nothing but intense gratitude and satisfaction every time the primal incantations answered his calls and earth did his bidding.

After what must have been at least an hour of work, Viren’s new tunnel was complete. Claudia had cast an illusion to mask the entrance of their new tunnel in case the guards should happen upon this part of the tunnel network, but the illusion would only hide their appearance, not the sounds they were making. So far luck had been on their side, since no one had come their way.

Viren’s new tunnel wasn’t very long, or pretty, but it would do. Thankfully, the distance from the lowest parts of the secret tunnels to the sheer cliffs the castle had been erected on top of wasn’t a long one.

 _Based on the position of the sun, it’s already afternoon_ , Viren noted, as he reached open air, and wiped sweat from his brow. He realized a bit belatedly that he hadn’t been outside in days.

The drawbridge was on the other side of the castle, so no one would see the new cave opening from there. Because of the steepness of the cliffs it was also unlikely that anyone would see it from the castle walls. So long as no soldiers or townsfolk happened to walk past their position and realize to look up the cliff-face, they should be safe.

“Ummm”, Soren drawled out at Viren’s side. “That’s quite a big fall.”

They all glanced over the edge. Soren was not wrong: it was still a considerable drop to the bottom. Much greater than Viren had realized it would be.

“Also”, Soren went on, “my hand might not be up for climbing, and no offense, but I don't think either of you have sufficient experience with climbing - or doing physical activities in general - that you could climb down sheer cliffs even in the best of conditions.”

Viren pinched the bridge of his nose. They most certainly would not be climbing down manually. That would be pure suicide.

“I’ll need to build some kind of way or a ledge…” Viren began, but Claudia cut him off: “No way, Dad. You’re barely on your feet as is.”

Viren sighed. Claudia was probably right, but what else could they do? Turn around and try to find another way out?

“I have an idea!” Claudia exclaimed, and started going through her satchel. She found what she’d been looking for, and held up two small items in the palm of her hand.

Viren blinked. His daughter was a genius. Viren made eye contact and nodded his approval.

Claudia smiled. She took out the insignificant-looking brown seed she’d been holding and squeezed it into a crack on the cliffside. Then she took the other item, a dried-up salamander tail, and crushed it in her hand. Claudia began chanting, her eyes glowing purple as she did, and hit her hand against the cliffside where she’d placed the seed. Claudia infused the solar power she’d drained from the salamander tail into the seed, and it began to shake. Fresh green shoots started to sprout from it.

The plant rooted in place, burrowing deep into the inhospitable rock. In less than ten seconds, there was a fully grown vine plant hanging off the cliffside.

It wasn’t large enough to reach all the way to the bottom, but that would be easily rectified.

“Dad, I can…” Claudia started, but Viren began to draw the rune for Plant Growth anyway, and explained: “Casting on living targets isn’t as taxing.” At least that was what Aaravos had told him in his lecture about Earth.

Viren glanced to Aaravos, who was standing behind them. He was smiling, and even clapped his hands a few times. “ _Bravo. Done with your pouting yet?_ ”

Viren narrowed his eyes. He was not _pouting_. Aaravos was the one who had been giving _him_ the silent treatment.

Viren focused on the spell again, channeling his frustrations into his work. The plant thrived and grew, and Viren raised three particularly strong vines to wrap around himself and his children.

“Wait! Are you sure this will…” Soren started to argue, but Viren did not have time for arguments. He needed to get them down while he still had the energy for it.

The wines wrapped around their waists and lifted them into the air, down by the cliffside, and over the moat to dry land.

Once Viren released the spell, the world around his eyes blackened a little, and he realized he was shaking on his feet. Someone came to offer him support. When Viren turned to look who it was, to his surprise, he was met with Claudia’s worried and annoyed eyes. “Come on Dad, let’s get you out of here.”

Viren nodded, but had to then close his eyes so the world would stay still.

Safe to say he had reached some sort of daily limit to primal magics. And probably gone right past it.

“ _I could help you_ ”, Aaravos suddenly offered. “ _With my power to strengthen you, you’ll have everything you need and more. You need but ask_.”

Viren bit down on his knee-jerk reaction to spit Aaravos’ offer to his face. They still needed to walk somewhere where the guards would not immediately reach them, and Viren wasn’t sure he had it in him.

Viren had already opened his mouth to begrudgingly agree to Aaravos’ offer, but the words got stuck in his throat. Something deep inside him was warning him not to do it, and although Viren wasn’t normally one to listen to his gut feeling over logic and reason, he eventually shook his head, turning down Aaravos’ offer. The elf simply shrugged, seemingly unoffended.

Exhaustion was probably clouding his judgement, but either way, now did not feel like the right time to do something drastic.

Viren took a step forward, and nearly keeled over.

“It’s okay, Dad, I’ve got you”, Soren said, supporting Viren from his other side.

One minute Viren was swaying on his feet, the next someone had grabbed him by the waist, and the world shifted.

It took Viren longer than it should have to realize that he wasn’t passing out, but that Soren had hoisted him over his shoulder, and was carrying him around like a doll. Once Viren did realize what had happened, the indignation of it hit him hard: “Soren! Put me down at once!”

His voice sounded weak even to his own ears. Soren did not put him down, which may have been for the best, as Viren found it increasingly hard to concentrate on the here and now.

 

***

 

Soren let out a massive yawn and asked: “Are we there yet?”

For an adult man, Dad wasn’t particularly heavy, but they had been walking for some time now, and Soren’s whole body was starting to ache.

Claudia huffed, but when she turned to look at Soren, she was smiling. Soren was relieved to see that Claudia wasn’t angry anymore.

“We’re not actually headed anywhere, per se”, Claudia pointed out. “We’re running from, not to, so there is no ‘there’ to get. That said, I think we’ve come far enough for tonight.”

“Fine by me”, Soren said and immediately put Dad down. Dad groaned, which meant he was awake, but he didn’t say anything. Soren was a bit worried about that, but then Claudia had said that this was probably a normal side effect of primal casting, and besides, what could Soren do about it? Nothing, so no point worrying about it.

“Shoot”, Claudia cursed. “Most of our camping gear was on the horses.”

Soren frowned. “Yeah, but then you went downstairs to the creepy closet to restock.”

“To restock _magical ingredients_ , Soren, not trail rations or a tent.”

Soren looked around. Their current surroundings looked pretty much the same as all the other woods they had been trudging through. There was no obvious source of water, but Soren knew there were lots of small rivers and creeks near Katolis, so finding water shouldn’t be too hard.

What could they do for shelter?

“I could gather some firewood”, Soren suggested with a half-shrug, minding his injured shoulder. He didn’t feel like doing any more walking, but they would all be happier around a warm campfire.

“No, we can’t take the risk.” Claudia sighed. “As soon as they realize we’ve found a way out of the castle, they’re going to send people after us. A fire would just advertise our position.”

Soren groaned. “Come on, just because they see a fire doesn’t mean they know it’s us. We can’t be the only people out camping tonight, right?”

Claudia didn’t say anything, but she was tapping her chin with her index finger, so she was probably cooking up some crazy solution in her head.

Soren knelt down to see how Dad was doing. He could barely believe how different Dad looked now compared to how he’d been just days ago when he’d sent Claudia and Soren on their missions.

Dad looked old. On a closer look, he didn’t look wrinklier, or grayer, but more like deflated. Soren knew their Dad was kind of skinny, but he could swear he didn’t used to look so gaunt. Dad looked sick.

Maybe it was the change of clothes. Dad always wore heavy, covering clothes with lots of layers. The rusty red tunic and trousers didn’t do much to hide how withered his neck and hands and feet looked.

 _Dad looks cold_ , Soren decided. Viren wasn’t even wearing proper shoes, just these wrappings that passed for footwear in prison.

After a moment of consideration, Soren took off his cape and wrapped it securely around Dad. _Better,_ Soren thought and nodded to himself.

“That’s it!” Claudia said and smacked her palm to her forehead. “That’s the thing we’re forgetting: Corvus.”

“Huh?” Soren asked, raising a dubious eyebrow.

Claudia turned to face him. “You said you heard people talk about Corvus, so that means he is in the castle. When you and I were after the princes, he tracked us down. I still don’t know _how_ he did it, he doesn’t even have magic. At least none that we know about...”

Soren tried to think that over. “Um, I’m not sure I heard anyone actually mention Corvus by name. I just assumed ‘cause Ezran was back…”

Claudia dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. “If not Corvus, then someone like him. The point being: they will send a tracker after us.”

Yeah, Soren could see his sister’s point. “So, we should cover our tracks somehow?” he half-suggested, half-asked.

Claudia nodded, and looked like she was thinking hard again. Soren tried to think of something, too.

“Maybe Dad could do something with his insane plant powers?” was what immediately jumped at Soren in the way of a plan.

Claudia turned to face Soren, walked over to him, and knelt down to take a closer look at Dad. “I don’t think Dad can do much of anything right now.”

“Do you think he’s sick?” Soren blurted out. Dad’s eyes were kind of half-open, but he wasn’t really present.

Claudia looked worried, and checked Dad for a fever with the back of her hand. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

Soren nodded.

Claudia got up and looked to the direction they had come from. After a moment of silence, she said: “I’ll go set up some enchantments. They should at least warn us if someone is approaching.”

“Okay”, Soren agreed.

It took Claudia maybe twenty minutes to go do whatever it was she was doing, and come back to their campsite. In the meanwhile Soren had placed their Dad against a mossy rock so that he was propped up in a semi-sitting position.

Dad was still pretty beat, Claudia didn’t look much better, and even Soren was starting to feel the sting of the arrowhead still lodged in his shoulder.

"Man, we really should have packed food and supplies and stuff", Soren said to Claudia. There had just been so much else to do.

“Soren”, Dad said all-of-a-sudden. Soren turned and saw that Dad had opened his eyes properly, and was waving for him to lean in closer, so Soren did.

“Your arm. The arrow. We should do something about that.”

“Yes”, Claudia agreed and came over. She started looking through her satchel. “I think I still have some feathers of a humming sunbird here somewhere.”

Dad straightened his posture and looked closer at the wound in Soren’s arm. Soren didn’t really know how to feel about everyone suddenly fussing over him like this. It wasn’t a bad feeling, being center of everyone's attention. Just unusual.

Claudia was still searching through her stuff, when Dad looked to his side and asked: “Earth has a good number of healing spells in its repertoire, doesn’t it?”

Soren was pretty sure the question had not been meant for him, but he shrugged his shoulders anyways, or tried to, but stopped after it kind of stung.

“And how is regeneration different from healing?” Dad asked, although no one had answered his first question.

“Um”, was Soren’s best contribution. _Maaayyybe it had been a rhetorical question._ Soren was sometimes bad at spotting those.

Dad looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded to himself. Viren turned his attention back to Soren, and this time he looked his son in the eye.

Dad looked worried, and something else, but Soren wasn’t really sure what.

“Dad, you shouldn’t be casting right now”, Claudia huffed, frustrated.

Dad turned to face Claudia. “We are surrounded by abundant vegetation. Channelling regenerative power from it should be as easy as breathing.”

Soren didn’t really know anything about the regenerative power of vegetation, but Claudia looked dubious, so Soren said: “Dad, I’m fine. Really.”

Dad was already drawing a new rune, though. “Claudia, pull out the arrow”, Dad ordered, while holding the shimmering rune in the air.

Claudia looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she sighed, stomped over to Soren’s side, smiled apologetically at her brother, and yanked the arrow out.

Dad put his other hand on Soren’s injured shoulder and said: “ _Regeneres elementaris_.”

Soren noticed that Dad’s eyes glowed green instead of the usual purple or black.

He could hear Claudia groan, but actually, whatever Dad was doing, it felt nice. The pain in his shoulder lessened right away.

The arrow had hit Soren in a joint in his armor. There hadn’t been even gambeson to slow it down, but luckily the original shot must have been hasty, since the arrow had not gone in deep.

It had still hurt a lot when Claudia had pulled it out, but he pain subsided pretty much right away after Dad released his spell.

Soren looked down on his arm, and saw that the wound had started bleeding again, but the bleeding slowed down fast.

Dad continued for a couple more seconds, and then his eyes stopped glowing, and he slouched against the rock Soren had helped him sit against.

The wound felt weird and really itchy. Soren wiped off the blood to see it better.

The injury wasn’t gone, but it looked as if he’d gotten it several days ago instead of a few hours ago.

“...Thanks”, Soren eventually managed, still pretty amazed.

“Yeah, that’s just _great_ ”, Claudia said sarcastically. It had been a long day and they were all tired and hungry, but Claudia didn’t usually get this moody when tired, not even in the morning before her hot brown morning potion.

Soren had no idea why Claudia was acting so cranky. He tried to make eye contact with his sister to nonverbally ask her what was the big deal. The way Soren saw it, things were going well. They’d managed to rescue Dad, just as planned, and their family was back together.

Soren remained close-by to Dad, still testing out his arm. Claudia sat down a little further from them, not looking at either of them.

There was a silence between all of them now, and a pretty uncomfortable one at that.

“I owe you a lot of explanations”, Dad said out of the blue. “But first, I just want to say that there are no words to describe how happy I am to see that you are alright...”

“Alright?” Claudia humphed. “I guess that’s one way to put it.” She was still not looking at Dad.

“...and if possible, I’d like to hear what all has happened to you on your travels”, Dad finished, looking at Claudia, but then turning to look at Soren.

 _Moment of truth._  

Soren winced, and said in a blur: “We didn’t really manage to capture the princes, or get the dragon egg. Well, the _dragon_ , because the egg had already hatched by the time we reached them, and then they didn’t really even want to return home, and we just kind of…”

“It’s okay”, Viren said, lifted his hand to Soren’s good shoulder, and squeezed. “Just... breathe.”

Soren stopped talking. For a moment he just stared at their dad, but then he nodded, and tried to breathe.

“I’m not angry with you”, Dad said.

“You’re not?” Soren asked.

Dad shook his head, and he actually didn’t look too angry, come to think of it. Just kind of super sad.

 _What a huge relief!_ And they hadn’t even told him about the dragonhorn yet!

“Well isn’t that just great!” Claudia said, got on her feet, and waved her hands. “Dad isn’t angry with _us_. Just perfect!”

Dad turned to look at Claudia, but he kept his hand on Soren’s shoulder. “Claudia. I can tell you are angry with me, and you have every right to be. I am not going to ask you to forgive me, but I do want you to know that I’m…  that I am sorry.”

Dad turned to look at Soren. “I am very sorry for everything. For the way I treated both of you. The way I took you for granted, and demanded so much from you.”

Dad sighed, and added: “I should never have made it your responsibility to deal with the lost princes.”

“To ‘deal with’”, Claudia scoffed, and crossed her arms.

“Claudia”, Soren pleaded. “Come on, just drop it, okay? Everything’s fine now.”

“Everything is fine”, Claudia repeated, her voice full of disbelief. “Everything is… everything is _not_ fine!”

She started pacing around the clearing angrily. “Yes, of course Dad now suddenly cares and wants to use healing magic, so of course everything’s just great, just peachy, nothing to discuss or worry about…”

Soren was getting properly annoyed by her attitude. “Claudia, I am _fine_.”

“But you weren’t fine!” Claudia nearly screamed. “Not when you told me you were _glad_ you’d been paralyzed, because it meant you couldn’t fulfill the _awful_ mission Dad gave you!”

Soren’s heart sank. He could see that Claudia realized her mistake as soon as the words had left her mouth. She stopped pacing around, and turned to face Soren, looking mortified. “Oh my god, Soren, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t thinking.”

Soren had asked her _not to_ mention that part to Dad.

“Paralyzed?” Dad asked softly. Even in that one word it sounded like Dad’s heart was breaking. “How? When?”

Soren could not find the words to say anything; he couldn’t even turn to look at Dad. Realizing this, Claudia answered for her brother: “There was a dragon harassing a town we happened upon. We fought it and took it down. We went to look for where it hadcrashed, and found it and captured it, but before we had time to kill it, the elf girl Rayla - the one who travels with Callum and Ezran - let the dragon loose. It hit Soren and he got hurt. Badly.”

“...You fought a dragon?” Dad’s voice was completely emotionless now, and still eerily soft.

“It’s okay, really....” Soren mumbled. “Because, you know, Claudia helped me. She healed me, and I got better.”

For a moment everyone was quiet. Soren still didn’t dare to look at Dad.

“And you were glad, because then you didn’t have to kill the princes, which I had ordered you to do”, Dad said quietly. Soren had to look at Dad at that. Viren’s complexion was deathly pale, and he looked like he might faint again. His eyes were fixed on nothing.

“Yes”, Claudia sobbed. Both Soren and Viren turned to look at her. She was crying, but kept talking. “Where were you Dad? We _needed_ you. Soren _needed_ you. _I_ needed you.”

Viren moved to get up. On instinct, Soren grabbed his dad’s arm to help support him.

Holding on to Soren’s arm, Dad walked over to Claudia, and embraced her.

At first, she banged her fists against Dad’s chest, but eventually she just sobbed against his shoulder.

Soren's sister was super sad and needed him, but Soren didn’t know what to do or say.

Viren pried his arm free from Soren’s grasp only to place it on his son’s back, instead, and pulled Soren into the hug as well.

Viren hugged both Claudia and Soren tight. For a long moment, they just stayed like that, and it felt nice. Their family had never been big on group hugs, but they should make it a thing, Soren decided. Hugs were nice.

Claudia had stopped crying, but she kept her face buried against Dad’s shoulder. Dad’s left arm drew circles on the back of Claudia’s head, ruffling her hair a little, the way he used to do when Soren and Claudia had been kids. His right hand held on firmly to Soren’s back.

Eventually, it was Claudia who broke the moment. “Dad, how could you ask Soren to kill Callum and Ezran?”

She lifted her gaze to meet Viren’s. Her eyes were still puffy from the crying, but she looked super serious.

Dad sighed. “You’re right to be angry”, Dad said, and turned to look Soren in the eye. “I had no right to ask that of you.”

“No, you didn’t”, Claudia went on. “If you were going to ask that of someone, you should have asked _me_.”

Dad turned to look at Claudia, his eyes wide with surprise. “I… I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t want to put something like that on either of you…”

“You should have asked me, because I would have had the backbone to say ‘no’ to you”, Claudia looked defiantly at Dad.

Dad’s mouth was left hanging open, but eventually he sobered, closed his mouth, looked down, and simply nodded.

When Viren lifted his gaze, he took in both his children. “Just so you know, I no longer want you - either of you - to harm the princes. Well, the king and the prince. How is Prince Callum, anyway?”

“He’s not in Katolis?” Claudia’s eyebrows knitted together in worry.

“I have no idea”, their dad admitted.

Soren looked at Dad and noticed that he looked really, really pale. “We should probably sit down?” he suggested.

The others nodded at him, and they pulled apart a little and sat down where they’d been standing, so they still remained pretty close to each other. That was also nice, Soren decided.

Claudia still looked like she was lost in thought, probably worried about Callum. The step-prince hadn't looked too hot the last time they saw him.

Dad was looking at Claudia and spoke up: “King Ezran came to visit me during my imprisonment, but Prince Callum was not with him then, nor did I hear anyone mention him. That said, King Ezran did not have the looks of a boy who’s recently lost his brother, so wherever Callum is, he is most likely fine.”

Claudia looked at Dad and nodded. She still looked worried, but also like she was trying not to be. Or maybe just trying not to show it.

Yeah, that reminded Soren of a thing they’d meant to ask Dad first thing after rescuing him. “Dad, why were you in prison?”

Now Dad looked at Soren with a confused look on his face. “You don't… no one told you?”

“Opeli tried to arrest us the moment we set foot in Katolis castle. We didn’t really have a chance to ask”, Claudia pointed out.

Viren nodded. “I was arrested for treason.”

 _No! No way!_ Soren thought. He couldn’t believe Opeli had been telling them the truth.

“What did you do? Is this about the ‘bird thing’?” Claudia asked.

Dad’s face dropped. “What do you mean by the ‘bird thing’?”

Claudia was looking at Dad funnily. “You know, about the thing where you put King Harrow’s soul in a bird?”

The look on Dad’s face would have been priceless on anyone but their dad. “...How do you know about that?”

“You did do it, didn’t you?” Claudia asked, all serious again. Dad looked really lost for a moment, but then he nodded.

“Wait, whaaat?” Soren had to ask. “That’s for real? King Harrow is still alive but in a bird?”

Their dad wasn’t looking at either of them in the eye, but he said: “I didn’t mean to do that, not originally. I meant to put his soul in a human body, but there were… complications. In the moment, I couldn’t think of another way to save him.”

Claudia nodded and asked: “Harrow didn’t agree to the plan, did he?”

Viren looked at them, and slowly shook his head. After a moment of silence, he explained: “I went up to his tower with the best of intentions.”

“You were going to trade places with him, weren’t you?” Claudia asked, sounding every bit like she only now put it together.

Viren looked somber, but he nodded again.

“But something went wrong?” Claudia continued her questioning. She sounded alarmed.

“Not with the soulfang or the spellwork”, Dad assured her. “With me. Harrow and I got in an argument, and I was unable to properly explain my plan to him. I was already about to leave, when - in a moment of madness - I decided to go through with the soul transfer after all. With or without Harrow’s approval.”

Their dad was looking at his hands as he said the last part.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Claudia sounded like she could not help asking.

Soren still didn’t understand. It wasn’t possible to transfer souls from one body to the next - or was it? And what had Dad meant about trading places with King Harrow?

“I was too ashamed. In too much shock, or perhaps even losing my mind over the guilt of what I had done”, Dad admitted, still not looking at them.

“Wait wait wait”, Soren felt like he really needed to keep up with what was being said, and he wasn’t. “So King Harrow is alive?” Dad nodded at him. “But he is in a bird?” Another nod. “And you put him there?” A nod.

 _Huh_. It was a lot to wrap his head around.

“So what happened to the bird? I mean, it’s soul?” Soren had to ask.

Dad looked serious. “It was inside Harrow’s body, and died when the elven assassins reached him.”

Right. That made sense. Sort of. Even if it was really weird picturing King Harrow acting like a bird.

But wait…

“You said you were going to trade places with him?” Soren tried not to sound as desperate as he suddenly felt.

Viren looked his son in the eye and nodded.

“But then _you_ would have…” Soren couldn’t finish the sentence. To his horror, neither his dad nor his sister told him he’d misunderstood.

“But I spoke to you!” Soren argued. “Like, moments before you went in to meet the king. And all that time, you were going in there to trade places so that the assassins would have _killed you instead_ , and you said nothing about any of that to me?”

Soren felt out of breath and like he needed to fight something, or maybe just run away as fast as he could, but he sat on both impulses and waited for Dad’s answer.

Their dad faced him now. “I couldn’t tell you, because you would have tried to stop me.”

“Yes, I would have.” Soren felt really hurt, and couldn't even name exactly why.

Suddenly Dad put his hand on Soren’s shoulder again. “I was willing to trade my life for that of my king, but I wasn’t willing to trade yours. The assassins were coming, no matter what, and I needed you focused on the fight ahead. Worrying about me would have been a… distraction.”

Dad was right. Soren knew he was. And at the same time, he was not. “If you had died, I couldn't even say goodbye.”

Dad looked down, his mouth a tight line, and said nothing.

Claudia spoke up again: “If you didn’t know that people know that you put King Harrow in a bird, then why were you in prison?”

Right. There was that, but that wasn’t really important right now, was it? Not right now, when Dad had just told them he had planned to kill himself, sort of...

“I forged the royal seal on official letters in order to summon the Meeting of the Pentarchy”, Dad admitted.

“What?!” Soren and Claudia asked in unison. That did not sound like actual treason to Soren, and when he met her sister’s gaze, she too looked genuinely surprised. Claudia asked: “That’s just a clerical error, right?”

Their dad shook his head. “No. Forging the royal seal is the same as impersonating the king. It is most certainly treason; high treason, in fact. Even if I thought it necessary at the time.”

“But you did it _for Katolis_ , right?” Soren argued.

Dad sighed. “I thought so. There were rapid developments on the Xadian side of the border, and I thought we couldn’t afford to wait for an official regent to be elected before calling for a meeting with the other kings and queens.”

Soren still felt relieved. “Yeah, but that wasn’t like _treason_ treason. I mean yeah, I guess it was, but you did it for a really good reason. And I mean, it’s not like you _actually_ betrayed your country, or killed anyone, or anything.”

At Soren’s words, their dad looked down and bit his lip. Soren felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, but had to ask: “...Right?”

Their dad was silent, and Claudia, too, prompted: “Dad…?”

Viren heaved a sigh and said: “When the guards came to arrest me, I… resisted. To put it mildly.”

Soren's eyes widened in surprise. _Whaaat…?_

“What happened?” Claudia asked.

Dad pulled his hands down his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I… I don’t know what came over me.”

Dad stopped what he was doing mid-motion, and stared at nothing, a look of dawning realization on his face. He spun around to look to his side and said angrily: “You! You made me do that! You told me to open the door and face them, even when I could have gone to hide behind the secret door!”

Soren officially had no idea what Dad was talking about now.

“No!” Dad shouted, still seemingly at no one. “No. I was weak after the casting, and I wasn’t thinking right, and you took advantage of that! You _used_ me!”

“Dad, who are you talking to?” Claudia asked slowly, looking at the empty patch of clearing their dad was yelling at.

Dad ignored her question in favor of continuing his tirade: “Why?! Why did you do it? Was it to show off your might; to advertise how powerful you are? Or because you didn’t care if they lived or died? Or… No. You did it to have us captured, didn’t you?!”

“Dad!” Soren said and tried to shake him by the shoulder.

Dad turned to look at Soren, and he looked so angry that the rest of Soren’s words got stuck in his throat.

Dad noticed how scared he looked, but instead of pulling away, he put his hand on Soren’s cheek, and said: “I’m not angry with you, son.”

Then Viren turned to look at whoever he was talking to, and went on in a somewhat calmer tone: “No. You used me. You used my hands to kill for you. How could I trust you after that?”

Dad shook his head. “No, I will find a way to rid myself of this connection. I’ll find a way - or Claudia will. Either way…”

All of a sudden, dad’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp.

“Dad!” both children gasped. Soren grabbed Viren just in time before he would have hit his head on the ground.

“Dad!" Soren tried to shake him, but he didn’t wake up.

Claudia hovered over them, and checked Dad’s pulse. “He’s not dead, just unconscious”, she determined.

“What happened?” Soren asked from his sister.

Claudia shook her head, first looking lost, but then determined. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” She began to go through her ingredients once more.

Soren checked their dad’s head. Maybe he’d gotten some sort of head injury during the escape? Maybe he and Claudia just hadn’t noticed, but one of the boulders…

“GAAAHH!” Soren yelped.

“What?” Claudia asked, frightened.

Soren could not put anything into words, and so just pointed at the skin behind their dad’s ear.

She saw it too, and gasped. For a moment it looked like there was something _moving under Dad’s skin_.

It was so gross and just, just _ew_!

“Is that a normal side effect of casting primal magic?” Soren asked.

Claudia looked disgusted. “No. But whatever it is, we’ll fix it."


	12. Friends and Enemies

“At least now we know how they got out of the castle undetected”, Commander Gren said, trying to keep his tone light and whimsical in spite of the growing knot of worry in his stomach.

Gren was standing at the foot of the cliffs the castle had been built upon. The guards had wanted to him to see what they had found, and it was truly a sight to behold; a brand new tunnel had erupted into the cliffside, and a large, if a tad withered, plant grew next to it. On a cliffside otherwise too steep and barren to support any plantlife.

 _Yeah, nothing says ‘magic’ quite like giant plants sprouting overnight,_ Gren thought with morbid fascination.

He wondered if they should cut the plant down - someone could use it to get into the castle, after all - but eventually he decided that hacking it to pieces would be a waste of their time. The plant would not survive in such an inhospitable environment for long, and the problem would take care of itself.

The tunnel was another matter. They would have to seal it somehow. At least it was quite a way off the ground, so blocking it was also not a priority right now.

The guards had searched the castle and its grounds three times, and found no sign of Lord Viren or his children. It had taken King Ezran personally giving them a tour through the many secret entrances that led to the network of tunnels crisscrossing under the castle grounds before the guards had stumbled upon the part of the tunnels where the other end of this new tunnel began.

Corvus was standing next to Gren, but he didn’t acknowledge Gren’s attempt at lightening the mood. Instead he went straight to work; Corvus scoured the ground around them, looking for tracks. It took him less than a minute to find some, and he waved Gren and the guards over to take a look.

“Three tracks here, matching our targets”, Corvus informed them. Gren looked at the ground and could at least imagine seeing footprints on the hard benchside of the moat.

“And here”, Corvus walked them a little closer to the forest’s edge, “one set of tracks - Viren’s, to be precise - disappears.”

Gren raised his eyebrows. “Are you implying that Lord Viren can fly, on top of all his other newfound magical powers?”

Corvus shook his head and even smiled at that. “Nope. Viren’s footprints vanish at the same time as Soren’s get heavier. He almost certainly started to carry his father, for whatever reason.”

Gren thought that over. “You think Lord Viren is injured, or otherwise unwell?”

Corvus shrugged his shoulders. “At least one of them is, but judging by the size of the droplets of blood, the bleeding is minimal.”

Gren nodded. “That would be Soren. I’m quite certain he got hit by an arrow during the fight at the corridor.”

Corvus followed the tracks a little further, his mind clearly engrossed in the process of detecting signs of broken twigs, or of leaves on the ground recently disturbed; that sort of things.

“Wait”, Gren commanded, and Corvus stopped to wait for him.

Gren smiled apologetically and said: “Do you think we should go after them right away?”

Corvus looked at him dubiously. “I think we should find them while the tracks are still fresh.”

Gren held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “I don’t doubt your ability to track them down. What I mean to say is: do you think we” (Gren waved his hands to encompass himself, Corvus, and the four Crownguard soldiers accompanying them) “will be enough to bring down Lord Viren and his children if we find them?”

Corvus looked genuinely annoyed at that. “But… we can’t just let them get away!” Corvus argued.

“And we won’t”, Gren assured him, “but at this point, I’d rather not put any more lives needlessly in danger by jumping into a confrontation with no idea what we are getting ourselves into. We need more information on everything, and especially on the great unknown in this equation; the elf in the mirror.”

There was no doubt in Gren’s mind that the mysterious elf Aaravos -  the one Viren had been communicating with during his imprisonment and perhaps longer - played a key part in whatever was going on right now.

Lord Viren was not the sort of man who would suddenly trust a random elf, and yet he seemed to trust this Aaravos without reservation. That implied that Viren was either too mad and desperate to think straight, or he was under the elf’s spell, but unable to see that he was being influenced. Either way, Gren had a haunting feeling they should not underestimate the power that Aaravos currently wielded over Lord Viren, and via proxy, Claudia and Soren, who most likely had no idea their father was being manipulated by outside forces.

“You think there really is an elf in the mirror?” Corvus asked. “Don’t you think it’s more likely Viren is just good ol’ fashion losing his marbles, and talking to people who aren’t there?”

Gren sighed. “At this point, we should count ourselves _lucky_ if Lord Viren is just mad, when the alternative is that he is being controlled by hostile outside forces that seem to be able to grant him unforeseeable, yet concrete, magical boons.”

Corvus looked like he only now thought about the situation in that light, and did not like the picture. He glanced back at the tracks wistfully, and said: “Fine. But if it’s information you need, I can get that for you. I can sneak up on them and not confront them. All I’ll do is listen in on their conversations, gather info on where they’re headed, and what they’re up to.”

“No”, Gren shook his head. They couldn’t afford to lose their best tracker to such a risky mission.

Even if Viren himself was unwell, they already knew that Claudia and Soren could easily prove a match to Corvus, should they detect his presence. Besides, Gren wasn’t going to bet anything on the prospect that Lord Viren was out of it, instead of up and about and brimming with magic.

If Gren was being completely honest with himself, there was a part of him that still hoped, perhaps foolishly, that he would be able to reason with Lord Viren, Claudia, and Soren once he reached them. Despite having personally been imprisoned by them, Gren had a feeling none of them were irredeemably evil, nor had truly betrayed Katolis in their hearts.

That didn’t mean that Gren, or anyone else, could rely on Viren, Claudia, or Soren holding back their punches when cornered. If at all possible, Gren would prefer not to force their hand on the matter. It was part of the reason why he had not tried harder to stop them at the corridor; none of the three had seemed to be in a conducive state of mind for a rational conversation about their options.

A part of Gren had hoped that the dark mage and his children would see reason and give themselves in when they found they could not escape the castle grounds, but it seemed he had sorely underestimated their resolve and resourcefulness.

He couldn’t let the three of them run loose any longer. They needed to be apprehended at first opportunity, and with force, if need be.

Corvus crossed his arms. “If there really is an evil elf behind all of this, puppeteering events from behind the scenes, it sounds to me like we can’t afford _not to_ go after them right away, and get to the bottom of this”, he reasoned.

“It sounds to me like we can’t afford to walk in there completely unprepared”, Gren decided. “What we need right now is a plan. A proper plan.”

Corvus opened his mouth to argue, but Gren cut him off with a “That’s an order, soldier.”

Gren had always disliked pulling rank on people, even though he’d be the first to vouch for the necessity of a clear chain of command in times like these.

Gren looked at the tracks one more time, and then up at the cliffside, and decided that what they needed to do was run all of this by King Ezran and King Harrow. Then they would put together a large, well-equipped task force capable of taking on Lord Viren and his children, if need be.

This wasn’t a game of tag, or hide-and-seek. Finding the fugitives fast would be of no use to them if they would not be able to subdue them. They needed time to plan and prepare, even if that meant they’d only be able to renew the search at dawn.

 

***

 

Queen Aanya was beyond frustrated. She’d been quarantined to her quarters with nothing in the way of an explanation other than that it was for “her own safety”. She would not be toyed with by Katolis’ nobility like this, and she most certainly would not be kept in the dark.

Silvia, her advisor, sat next to her. They were seated around a small desk in the foreign dignitaries’ meeting room.

Silvia knew better than to talk to Aanya when she was in this bad a mood. In public, Aanya tended to wear the mask of an innocent if smart-mouthed girl who was never nonplussed about anything. Only in private or around her most trusted advisors she let that mask fall away; let her frustrations and vulnerabilities show.

Finally, there was a tap on the door. Aanya got to her feet, intending to go to the door personally, but Silvia cautioned her with a “Your Majesty”. Aanya had to concede that opening the door herself would come across as overeager, and would be beneath her rank, when there were others present to do it for her.

Biting her tongue, Aanya sat back down, and reigned in her facial expressions. Once she was certain she had composed herself, she nodded at Silvia, who opened the door.

Behind it were guards, unsurprisingly, considering there were about a dozen guards posted at her door, both hers and Katolis’. With a small sigh of relief, Aanya saw that the one guard she had been waiting for was also there, bowing deep, and asking for a permission to enter the room.

Aanya smiled cordially, and waved for the soldier to enter.

As soon as her spy was in the room, and the door was closed behind her, Aanya asked, impatiently: “Well?”

“Your Majesty”, Rimya bowed her head one more time before reporting, “the earthquake we all felt was not of natural origins; it was caused by Lord Viren as he escaped.”

Aanya barely resisted the urge to slap herself on the forehead. _Of course_ Lord Viren had found a way to escape. That should not have come as a surprise to her at this point. Even in his madness, the former High Mage appeared to be twice as productive as rest of Katolis put together.

What did this turn of events mean for her, or for Duren? On the long run, probably nothing good, but would Lord Viren prioritize attacking her nation in a moment such as this? Well, he certainly had a history of choosing Duren as his target…

Aanya nodded at Rimya to go on, and she did: “From what I was able to gather, the mage’s children, one of whom is also a mage, helped their father escape. There is an active manhunt underway for all three. The Katolis Crownguard seem to believe they are hiding somewhere within the castle.”

Aanya raised a dubious eyebrow. “The earthquake was hours ago, and the whole castle has been up in arms ever since. Where in the castle could they possible have been hiding all this time? Surely the secret study Viren hid in earlier has been checked?”

“It turns out there are a number of secret tunnels running under the castle, majority of which the Crownguard were not aware of”, Rimya answered seriously.

Aanya filed all that in, and considered it. Silvia and Rimya waited in silence, giving her time to think.

“How many died when Viren escaped?” It was important for Aanya to know just what level of threat they were dealing with.

“None, Your Majesty.”

Aanya raised her eyebrow in question, and Rimya explained: “Either they got lucky, or Lord Viren took measures to avoid dealing fatal injuries.”

Aanya nodded slowly, wondering which it was. The man she’d met last night had been mad, but not completely insane. Viren had seemed able to tell who his true enemies were, and seemed to think that it was the elves, not his captors. Would that mean he would focus his energy on attacking the Xadians?

“Does King Ezran believe that I am in danger from Lord Viren, or is he personally leading the manhunt and therefore too busy to see me, or is he sitting around his Throne Room, using this emergency as an excuse to not have to deal with my demands for an audience?” Aanya asked.

As much as Aanya and Viren had personally never gotten along, she could not picture the mage making her a top priority on his list of things to do. Surely, their small-time enmity did not mean that much to him in the grander scheme of things?

Aanya could, however, picture King Ezran being childish enough to not realize that Aanya was her equal in standing, even though a guest at the present time, and could not be treated the way he could treat his subjects or his underlings.

Rimya looked Aanya in the eye. “That brings us to my other news: there is a widespread rumor going around among the castle guards and staff that King Ezran has declared that his father, King Harrow, survived the assassination attempt.”

Aanya’s jaw dropped. “Truly? How?”

“Most versions seem to agree that some sort of powerful spell was used to store the king’s soul in the body of a bird.”

Aanya pulled back in her chair. A bird?

If the rumors were not just idle gossip, there were two options: either King Ezran was crazy, or King Harrow was alive, but in a bird.

King Ezran was young, but not insane. Not based on what Aanya had seen of him.

The bird theory would have sounded impossible on almost any other day, but Katolis had until very recently been in possession of a powerful, deranged dark mage. If ever there was a culprit to perform such magics, there was one now.

If King Harrow lived, it changed everything, didn’t it? It gave her _options_.

There was another tap on the door, and after receiving permission from Aanya, Rimya opened it. There was a black-haired young man standing behind it with a scroll in hand. He was not one of Aanya’s subjects, but also not a member of Katolis’ Crownguard.

 _A spy sent by my enemies?_ Aanya thought, but dismissed the idea quickly. If the courtiers of Katolis wanted to spy on her, they would have sent someone less obvious.

“Um, sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty.” The man bowed hastily, and handed a scroll towards Aanya. “This arrived just now, and it’s addressed to you.”

The scroll was small, the kind that was sent on a crow. Aanya saw that it bore the seal of Lord Erhard, the head of Aanya’s High Council. She’d left him in charge of Duren’s safety in her absence.

Aanya’s heart sank at the sight of the letter. Perhaps it was just a status report, but a gut feeling told the young queen that something had gone wrong in her queendom.

Aanya waved the courier over, and took the scroll from him. As soon as the man had been dismissed, Aanya cracked open the seal, and unfolded the scroll.

The further she read, the greater was her shock and dismay.

_No. This can’t be happening._

But it was.

After Aanya was finished with the letter, her thoughts should have been on the troubles at home, and what she could do to fix them. Yet all she could think about was that Lord Viren had been right, after all.

 

***

 

Ezran didn’t like this one bit. He didn’t want to go against Claudia and Soren; they were his friends. Yet time and time again that was exactly the position he found himself in. Life was strange that way.

If only he’d had a chance to talk to them at some point, maybe Ezran could have convinced them that their dad was sick, and needed to be kept locked away for the safety of everyone, Viren included.

After Harrow’s sudden arrival, Ezran had had so much else on his mind that he hadn’t taken it very seriously that Claudia and Soren were hiding somewhere in the castle. They were just Claudia and Soren, after all. What was the worst thing that could come of it?

Now Ezran really wished he had made more of an attempt to track them down and talk to them in person.

Harrow seemed to notice that Ezran was feeling down. He reached out from his perch on the armrest of the throne to rub his cheek against Ezran’s, and asked what was on his mind.

“Claudia and Soren are my friends”, Ezran whispered back to his dad. The adults in the room were discussing battle plans or some such, and Ezran didn’t want to disturb them, so he kept his voice low as he added: “I don’t want to have to fight them.”

Dad said he understood. Fighting friends was a lot harder than fighting enemies.

“Do you hate it that we have to fight Viren?” Ezran asked. He knew his dad was mad at Viren now, but they had been friends for a really long time. Longer than Ezran had been alive.

Dad considered a long while before answering that yes, he was very sorry that he had to consider one of his oldest friends an enemy and a threat, but that as a king, sometimes you didn’t have the luxury to do what your heart told you was the right thing to do; you had to put the safety and interests of your people above all other considerations.

Ezran’s shoulders slumped. Being a king wasn’t much fun at all.

Ezran yawned. He’d barely gotten any sleep last night. He’d spent all evening talking with Gren and Corvus and Opeli about what they should do next. Then he’d gotten up before sunrise to hear what progress had been made.

Not all that much, it turned out. Gren had been unsuccessful in his attempts to find a way to contact the elf in the mirror. Opeli had ordered some servants to scour the library for a mention of the magic mirror, or a Startouched Elf named Aaravos, but that hadn’t been successful either. Just really weird.

Ezran had been shown one of the books that mentioned Aaravos, but it was impossible to read those pages; the words shifted across his eyes, or jumbled together. And it wasn’t just Ezran who had trouble reading it; no one could read those passages.

That wasn’t just weird, but also kind of worrisome. Whoever Aaravos was, it seemed there was magic in just mentioning his name.

Personally, Ezran wasn’t as worried about this Aaravos character as everyone around him seemed to be. He’d tried to explain to them that elves weren’t as bad as people thought they were. Real elves weren’t bloodthirsty monsters like in the stories. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding, just like the war between Katolis and Xadia.

That said, even Ezran had to admit that it was weird for Viren, of all people, to have a secret elf friend. Gren seemed pretty sure that that was the case, though, so Ezran had accepted it as a fact. There was probably a story there.

“Sooo, any thoughts on the plans we have made so far, my king?” Gren asked.

It took a while for Ezran to register that the red-headed soldier had meant him. When Ezran did realize it, and that everyone was looking at him now, he smiled at them awkwardly and said: “Actually, could you go over the plan one more time? I was, um… Bait said something funny, and I got distracted.”

Everyone looked at Bait, who looked like he had never said anything funny in his life. Bait looked at Ezran. He didn’t look pleased, but at least he didn’t rat him out.

For a moment Gren looked unsure, but then he smiled warmly, and said: “Of course, Your Majesty. Where would you like me to start?”

“The, um, beginning part?”

Ezran wasn’t sure how, but Gren managed to look unhappy without dropping his smile. “Very well”, he sighed. “As I was saying…”

Ezran never got to hear what Gren was about to say, because in that moment, someone opened the doors to the Throne Room. That was unusual, because people always knocked before bursting in to bother the king, even when it was an emergency.

When Ezran saw who was standing behind the doors, he did not find it weird or rude at all, though. “Aunt Amaya!” he exclaimed, got up from his chair, and ran up to meet her.

Amaya, dressed in her full armor, smiled at Ezran, got down on one knee, and hugged Ezran when he reached her.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you that Rayla was our friend”, Ezran blurted out against Amaya’s armored shoulder.

His aunt pulled him an arms length away and started signing. Ezran wasn’t fluent in sign language, but even he understood that she was telling him to only speak when she could see his mouth. She had lectured him and Callum about that many times before.

“Only speak when I can see your mouth”, Gren piped up. He had come up to stand beside them. Ezran smiled his thanks, despite not actually needing that bit interpreted.

Aunt Amaya got back up to her full height, walked over to Commander Gren, and to Ezran’s surprise, hugged him quickly as well. Gren looked pretty shocked about that as well. Ezran exchanged a look with Bait, but Bait had no opinion on the matter. Bait was sometimes no fun that way.

Amaya noticed Corvus standing by Opeli’s side, and nodded at him. For a moment Ezran was worried that Corvus would feel left out, since he didn’t get a hug, but he didn’t look like it bothered him. Corvus smiled a crooked smile and said: “Welcome home, General. Good to have you here.”

Amaya nodded, and started signing again. “It is good to see you, too. I only wish it was under less dire circumstances.”

Ezran wondered how his aunt had heard about Viren’s escape so soon. Or how she had gotten to Katolis so fast, come to think of it.

Before Ezran had time to ask, Amaya walked past everyone in the room, and kneeled before the throne. Before Pip, who was also King Harrow.

“My king”, she signed, and Gren interpreted out loud for everyone else in the room. “I come before you with a proposition.”

Ezran realized belatedly that he was the only one in the room who could understand Dad, and he should interpret for him, just like Gren was interpreting for Amaya. The boy hurried over to the throne, with Bait hopping right on his heels.

“Um”, Ezran said to get everyone’s attention. Harrow seemed to guess at his intentions; he got on his wings and glided the short distance between them to sit on Ezran’s shoulder. Dad was now a literal weight on his shoulders, but Ezran decided it was a weight he would gladly support, if that was the price for having his Dad back. “Dad is happy to see you. Happy and surprised.”

Ezran looked around at the faces in the room. Opeli looked like she might faint, Corvus looked to be hiding a smile behind his fist, and Gren looked like he wanted badly to give Ezran some advice on interpreting, but couldn’t, because of their difference in rank.

Aunt Amaya nodded at Ezran encouragingly, but then her face got serious again, and she went on: “Commander Gren has informed me of what that…” Gren glanced down at Ezran, and went on: “What that _very bad man_ Viren did to you, Your Majesty.”

Amaya had been reading Gren’s lips, and now looked at him annoyedly. Gren nodded his head slightly towards Ezran. Ezran rolled his eyes. Adults thought they were subtle when they didn’t want you to hear something, but usually they were really obvious about it.

Amaya blinked, and signed. “Right. Those were the exact words I used.”

Corvus looked like he was biting down on his lower lip to keep his face straight.

Dad wanted to know what 'proposition' Amaya had been talking about, so Ezran asked it out loud for him: “So, there was something you wanted to propose to my dad?”

Amaya nodded, and went on: “You are our king, and we need you back in full fighting order now more than ever.”

Then Amaya got up and waved at some of the soldiers that had entered the room behind her.

“Bring ‘it’ in”, Gren translated Amaya’s order to her soldiers, but in a hesitant tone, like even he wasn’t quite sure how to translate the words without knowing what the ‘it’ referred to.

The soldiers saluted and left the room, only to come back hauling behind them a small cart. They pulled it into the Throne Room, past the strategy table and in front of Ezran and his dad.

Ezran still had no idea what Aunt Amaya was doing.

In the cart lay a man, and Ezran was first sure that the man was dead and winced in horror. But then he saw that despite how withered the man looked, his chest rose and fell, so he wasn’t dead, just in a bad shape.

Dad was suddenly radiating anger and told Ezran to tell Amaya in no uncertain terms that his answer was ‘no’.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Ezran asked him, but it was Amaya who answered his question.

“This soldier was injured during a skirmish at the border two months ago, and although the healers were able to keep him alive with powerful healing potions and herbs, they say they got to him too late: his soul has already moved on, and he will never wake up.”

Dad was squawking really angrily, telling Amaya that she couldn’t possibly know that, and that this was not an option. Ezran was too stunned to translate, but Amaya probably got the gist of it from how visibly pissed off Dad suddenly was.

“This soldier will not awaken, and there is only so long we can force his body to stay alive by magical means. Sooner or later, we’ll have to let it go; there is more mercy in that than in keeping this husk alive indefinitely”, Amaya continued, looking very determined even by her standards. “But his tragedy does not mean we cannot make use of the situation.”

Ezran’s jaw dropped as it finally hit him what his aunt was saying. “But wait! You think... You think you can get Dad’s soul out of Pip and into this man?”

Ezran turned to stare at the body before them with new eyes. The dark-skinned man laying on the cart was at least ten years younger than Dad, but even more weirdly, his face was that of a complete stranger. Ezran could not picture that man getting up and calling him ‘son’. Just the thought of it made him shiver.

“I rode here as fast as I was able to after Gren sent me word of your condition, Harrow”, Amaya went on. “I know you will not be happy with this, but it is the only sensible solution.”

“...Dad says ‘no’”, Ezran finally manage to stutter out. He still couldn’t believe that they were discussing this.

Dad was suddenly talking to Ezran instead of Amaya, asking him if he was okay. Ezran felt a bit unsteady on his feet, so he just kind of shrugged. Dad flew off of his shoulder and back to the throne, and told Ezran to sit down. Ezran did, although his legs suddenly felt like they were made of wood.

Dad asked Ezran if he could translate for him one more time. Ezran nodded. He should be able to do that much.

“Dad says that his answer is ‘no’ and that he won’t change his mind”, Ezran said. “He also says that this is wrong, and that he, um, that he is disappointed in you, Aunt Amaya.

It was really weird for Ezran to chastise his aunt, even when just repeating things what his dad had said. Ezran chanced a look at Amaya, and saw that she looked furious, though she was staring at Harrow, and not Ezran.

“Harrow, your kingdom needs you. Your people need you. Your _sons_ need you”, Amaya argued, her signing more aggressive than usual. “We do not live in a perfect world, and sometimes there are no easy solutions, but you must see that things cannot continue the way they are. Something needs to be done, and if not this, I’d love to hear what’s your idea on how to fix this.”

Everyone fell silent at that, even Dad. Ezran couldn’t quite believe Amaya had just said that to her king.

An intense silence spread over the room, as Amaya and Harrow stared each other down. The moment was eventually interrupted by Gren, who tapped on Amaya’s shoulder, and started signing something to her.

Amaya’s face fell, and she started to sign frantically back at him, but Gren didn’t interpret it for the rest of them to hear.

“What is going on?” Opeli asked, having recovered some of her composure and air of authority.

Gren signed something at Amaya, and Amaya nodded at him. Ezran recognized that she told him to say the next thing out loud. Then she signed something fiercely.

Gren swallowed, took in a deep breath, and started to, for the lack of a better word, yell at everyone in the room: “Why wasn’t I informed immediately that Viren escaped! I’m going to go out there right now, and drag his sorry ass back in here, so he can undo the shit he got started, and... Oh Ezran, you’re still here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos or commented on this story. Your appreciation and words mean a lot to me!


	13. Priorities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of warning: in this chapter, we dive into the complicated relationship between Aaravos and Viren, and there are themes of emotional manipulation and abuse.

When Viren opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the slowly darkening woods outside Katolis anymore; he was in Aaravos’ magnificent library. This time Viren wasn’t comfortably seated in an armchair, but sprawled on his back on the library’s cold marble floor.

The position seemed appropriate; Viren certainly felt like he had fallen from a high place, or got the air knocked out of him by someone much bigger than he was.

Viren’s children weren’t here. If they had been, that would probably mean that something had gone terribly wrong, so Viren reasoned that he should be happy that they were not. Claudia and Soren’s absence still left him feeling hollow and alone.

“Are you going to lie there all day?” Aaravos asked. He was standing next to one of the bookshelves, and leafing through a large tome.

Aaravos hadn’t looked up from his book, or down at Viren, when addressing him. Viren’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You”, he spit out through gritted teeth. “You _betrayed me._ ”

Aaravos’ calm and detached expression did not change, but at least he closed the book, put it on a shelf, and turned to face Viren. “I have done no such thing”, Aaravos stated evenly.

The certainty and lack of defensiveness in Aaravos’ voice made Viren’s ire rise even faster. He scrambled to his feet, so angry that he didn’t even care how ungraceful he must look next to someone like Aaravos.

“When the guards came to arrest me”, Viren said angrily, “you told me to follow your lead. I did exactly as you told me to do, I followed your orders to the letter, and look where it got me!”

Aaravos lifted his hands, palms up. The gesture was probably meant to be placating, but to Viren, it looked suspiciously lot like a shrug. “They were going to hurt you. They were your enemies. I did what I had to do to protect you.”

“That’s not true!” Viren yelled. He knew that it wasn’t a particularly convincing argument by itself, but he was too furious to form a proper rebuke.

“I have never lied to you”, Aaravos said in a deep, serious tone, and took a step closer to Viren.

“No, but you failed to warn me that if I connected with you, I wouldn’t be the only one steering my own actions!” Viren shouted.

_How could I have been so blind and trusting?_

Viren had felt such immense guilt over his actions during the arrest that he hadn’t allowed himself to realize that they hadn’t been entirely _his_ actions. When he and Aaravos connected to each other for the second time during his escape, Viren had been more in control of himself throughout the exchange, and could now see just how little he had been in control the first time around.

A part of Viren had known that something had been wrong with him when he confronted those guards. He had never felt quite so murderous before or after that encounter. Viren had killed before, but he had never derived pleasure from it.

He had never relished in it.

However, to admit to himself that Aaravos had played him, had used him… It had been impossible, at the time, because Aaravos was all Viren had left.

“You used me, and you manipulated me”, Viren went on, a bit out of breath. “You didn’t just kill those guards by my hand, but you made me think that I had been the one to do it. That I wanted them dead, when I didn’t! Without your presence there, without your ‘help’ and ‘advice’, those guards would still be alive!”

Aaravos sighed. “I was only trying to help you. You’re not really looking at this the right way.”

“Oh?” Viren asked, his voice trembling with hate. “Well, do tell, what way should I be looking at your actions so that they don’t look like total crap?”

Viren felt a small twinge of pleasure at the sight of the annoyed expression on the elf’s face. Finally, _finally_ , he had said something that provoked a real response from Aaravos.

Aaravos took in a deep breath. When he finally spoke, he sounded perfectly, annoyingly calm: “Perhaps you didn’t want the guards to die, but in that moment, you certainly didn’t care much either way. If you truly cared about their wellbeing, I would not have been able to kill them through you. Whether you like it or not, I was merely carrying out your wishes.”

“That’s not true! And even if it is, that’s not the point!” Viren yelled back at him. He was starting to have a sinking suspicion that he wasn’t just losing this argument, but that they weren’t even having the same conversation.

_How do I get through to him?!_

“The point is this”, Viren went on a bit more calmly, “those guards didn't have to die. You knew that even if I did not. We could have ran away. We could have hidden ourselves. There were probably a million different ways you could have gotten me out of that situation without hurting anyone, but instead you told me to fight them. You chose to kill those soldiers, and then you chose to let me get captured, and I need to know _why_. Why did you do that?”

Aaravos crossed his arms and humphed. “ _Viren_ ”, he said, exasperated. “I haven’t betrayed you. Not in my heart, nor in my head. Everything I have done has been for you - to help you undergo a metamorphosis. I have only ever been your servant; your teacher; your _friend_. You’re so busy splitting hairs over minor differences of opinion that you are letting yourself get blindsided to the bigger picture here.”

Viren was a bit taken aback by the sudden change of topic. Aaravos smiled at him confidently, and took another step closer. “Think about all that we’ve already accomplished together in the span of mere weeks. The gifts I have given you, the lessons I have taught you; they will change the course of history. Are you really going to throw all that away over the lives of some guards you didn’t even know the names of? Come on. If the people coming to arrest you had been elves, we wouldn't even be having this discussion. You would have just thanked me for my help.”

Viren pulled his hands down his face, and tried to calm his breathing. _This is progress_ , he told himself. Aaravos still wasn’t admitting that he had done anything wrong, but at least the conversation had taken a turn for the honest.

Viren opened his mouth to argue that everything Aaravos had done had been to help Aaravos and no one else, but the words never left his mouth. Viren closed his mouth and sighed. He realized in that moment that he couldn’t in good conscience claim that Aaravos hadn’t helped him.

Viren had been a total shipwreck even before he met Aaravos. By the time he started trusting the elf in the mirror, and taking advice from him, he was already in such a dark place that ordering the princes' deaths, or sending shadow assassins to harass the other kingdoms, had felt like reasonable courses of action.

Viren had already lost his way by then, and he’d done that all on his own. Yet none of that changed the fact that Aaravos, too, had committed his fair share of crimes, and Viren wanted to call him out on that.

Viren tried to root himself in the here and now; to pull on his connection to Earth, but not for magical power, but for stability, calmness, and focus.

Viren’s connection to Earth was still new, like a fresh sprout on a tree, but it felt a lot older, like it was also the tree itself. Viren had a feeling that at some point in his life he had known what Earth was like, but had forgotten. Small things - things that had felt very important at the time, but in retrospect weren’t - had cluttered his vision, and made him lose sight of what really mattered to him in life.

Unlocking the Earth arcanum had been like coming home after being lost for a very long time. Viren was still the man he had always been. He still felt bitter about the way the elves and dragons had treated humanity over the years. He still wanted mankind to win the war, and take back what rightfully belonged to them. However, all of his grand schemes and plans for the future felt like distant seconds next to his new primary drive; to keep his children safe, and happy, and near him.

“Think about it”, Aaravos purred at Viren. “Picture it. With my knowledge and your perseverance, nothing can stand in our way. Together we can right the wrongs inflicted on humanity, and guide the world on a new, better, more magical path. All you have to do is stay true to the course we’ve set for ourselves, and stay by my side.”

Aaravos’ offer was everything Viren had ever wanted: unlimited magical power, and the ability to make a difference in this world. Viren could be humanity’s savior. He could start a new, more just and prosperous era, filled with magic and wonder.

For Viren, power had always been a means to an end; whether it was new magics or the throne, power was there to be used. Power was always in the service of something greater than himself: a brighter tomorrow for all of humankind.

Yet, right now, Viren found himself not tempted by Aaravos’ offer of ultimate power.

Something inside Viren had changed, or maybe just clicked into place. Viren’s personality and fundamental aspirations were still the same, but his priorities had shifted. Things that would have once meant the world to him felt next-to meaningless, and things he had cared about, but mostly taken for granted - things such as his children, his friendship with Harrow, and the good life he’d had in Katolis - now felt essential to him.

Whether the elf had meant to do it or not, teaching Viren how to connect to the Earth primal was probably the single nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. It was a truly great and meaningful gift, even if not in the sense that Aaravos had intended.

When Viren was lost and alone, Aaravos had helped him find light at the end of the tunnel. Viren would forever owe Aaravos for that.

That said, Aaravos’ gifts and help did not make up for everything else Aaravos had done, and made Viren complicit in. How to put that into words the elf would comprehend?

Aaravos, apparently oblivious to why Viren was so flustered, pressed his advantage: “With me here to guide you, you learned to connect to the Earth primal in a span of _days_. Do you have any idea how monumental that is? No human had ever done it before, and you didn’t just succeed, but you did so in record time. Even if we assume that Earth was the one that comes most naturally to you, and that the others will take more work, how long do you think it will take for you to connect to all six original primals?”

“Aaravos”, Viren said. His voice came out more hesitant than he had expected.

“Yes, Viren. What is it?”

Aaravos’ eyes were so close, and so beautiful and, in their own way, innocent, that it almost hurt to look at them, but Viren did not avert his gaze.

“What do you want?” Viren asked. It occurred to him that they’d had many conversations about Viren’s opinions and desires and plans for tomorrow, but very few about Aaravos’.

Aaravos frowned slightly. “I… I want us to move past this. I want to continue working with you. I want us to achieve great things together. _Together_  there is nothing we couldn’t accomplish.”

Viren winced. “That’s very nice, but not really what I meant. I wasn’t asking where you want to go from here, but what you would do if you could do anything. Assume you’re not stuck in a mirror, and don’t need me to interact with the world; imagine we live in a perfect world: what would you do right now if you had the chance? What’s the first thing that comes to your mind?”

Aaravos pulled back a bit, one eyebrow raised in a question. Viren said nothing more. He kept his eyes on Aaravos’, but otherwise he did not prod the elf in any way.

Slowly, Aaravos’ face grew very, very sad. He looked down, sighed, and shook his head. “...We don’t live in a perfect world", he said, sounding more hurt than Viren had ever heard him sound.

Viren shook his head as well, though a smile was creeping on his lips for the first time during the conversation. “That’s not really the point here…”

“But it is”, Aaravos said, closed the distance between them, and took Viren’s hands in his. “Because that is what I want to give you: the perfect world. A world, where the others don’t look down on humans, or call you inferior. I want to make them see what I see in you, to see your potential. To see you as their equals.”

For a moment, Viren felt overwhelmed by a flood of conflicting emotions. He felt like a bad person for having been so quick to judge Aaravos. A part of him desperately wanted to apologize for his thoughtlessness. He also wanted to assure the elf that everything would be alright; that it would all come out fine in the end.

But only for a fleeting moment.

Viren bit his lip, and pulled away from Aaravos, even though doing so took almost all the strength he had.

What Aaravos was offering him wasn’t just power; their relationship had never been just about power. Aaravos appealed to something far more mundane in Viren; his yearning for true companionship.

Viren had once thought he had that with Harrow, but he’d been wrong. A part of Viren had shattered at the realization that he didn’t mean to Harrow as much as Harrow had always meant to him.

There had never been anything romantic between Viren and Harrow, but in every way that counted, Harrow had been his constant companion. Harrow had been the one person Viren trusted without reservations, and he’d thought Harrow felt the same way about him.

It was for Harrow that Viren had strived to be the best version of himself; to be the man Harrow needed him to be, in good and in bad. To be the pragmatist to Harrow’s idealist, and the one to find solutions to all the problems that Harrow faced. Nothing gave him more pleasure than putting a smile on Harrow’s face.

After Viren had gone to Harrow with nothing but sincerity and his life to give, and Harrow had rejected him, throwing it all against Viren’s face, and made a point of emphasizing just how little Viren had ever meant to him; after that, a part of Viren had shut down. In that moment, Viren knew he would never trust anyone this way again; he would never leave himself open to such hurt again.

Somehow, Aaravos had still seen right through him. Like a thief in the night, Aaravos had found the cracks in Viren’s metaphorical armor, and crept his way into Viren’s heart.

And here he was now: Aaravos. Beautiful, powerful, magical. Offering Viren everything he had ever wanted, and everything he had ever needed.

It was clear to him by now that the elf knew Viren’s heart and its yearnings better than he knew them himself.

Unfortunately, that was exactly why Viren could not trust Aaravos.

“You wanted me captured, so you could have me all to yourself”, Viren said, and looked to the side, trying hard to control his emotions. “So that I would be yours and yours alone, with no one else to turn to.”

Now that Viren felt more rooted, it was clear to him that that was what Aaravos had been doing throughout Viren’s imprisonment: guiding him to be antagonistic when he could have been conciliatory. Isolating him from everyone and anyone. It still hurt to say it out loud.

“You hurt me, because it suited you. How do I know you won't do that again?" Viren turned to look at Aaravos, but the other had turned away as well. Viren wasn’t able to see Aaravos’ reaction, but when the elf spoke, his voice did not sound upset. With Aaravos that didn’t mean much though.

”You have your doubts about my loyalty", Aaravos said in an unreadable tone. "You've always had them. Admit it; if I were a human, you would trust me more readily. If I were a human, you wouldn't doubt my motives at every turn.”

Viren narrowed his eyes, but eventually he just sighed. ”It's not just your loyalty that I question, but yes, I see your point, and the answer is maybe. Maybe you being an elf has affected my judgement. But you are an elf, and the elves are the old enemy.”

”Not as old as I am”, Aaravos suddenly nearly shouted with frustration, and turned to face Viren again, pointing one of his fingers at him. ”You need to get this through that thick skull of yours: I come from a time very different from what you have ever known. My perspectives and priorities couldn't be more different from those of my contemporaries’. I have no reason to show preference for an elf over you. I transcend such petty squabbles.”

Viren gaped. Slowly, he said: ”A thousand years of war, and you call it _squabbling_! And then you wonder why I have a hard time trusting your ability to _prioritize_!”

Aaravos looked angry, now, and it was both beautiful and terrifying. ”I have _never_ betrayed you. Whenever you asked for my help, or even just a listening ear, not once did I turn you away. I did everything you asked for and more! If you turn your back on me now, because you don't like what I am, because you can't get past your instincts and put your trust in an _elf_ , how are you any better than all those who betrayed you, and turned their backs on you, because they couldn't trust a _dark mage_?”

Viren bit his lip. Aaravos wasn’t wrong.

There were very few things Viren was sure about when it came to Aaravos, but he was starting to be sure about this: Aaravos truly believed that he had not betrayed Viren. The elf knew that he had manipulated Viren since the moment they first laid eyes on each other, but he found ways to justify it to himself in a way that made it all about Viren’s best interest. Through some form of logic so twisted Viren wasn’t quite able to follow it, Aaravos believed he was doing Viren a favor by picking him apart and building him anew.

Once upon a time, Viren might have accepted that. Welcomed it, even.

Once upon a time, Viren himself had been a master of rationalizing everything to the point where other people’s sense of morality became a hindrance in the way of effectiveness.

Once upon a time, Viren would have bought Aaravos’ excuses that the guards’ deaths were tragic but necessary, or at the very least unavoidable.

 _To forge a new world order, you have to break the old one._ Viren would have told himself something on those lines. Something to ease his conscience and help him sleep at night.

However, now there was a part of Viren that knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that all life mattered. Life had intrinsic value. All living creatures had the right to pursue their way of life, and although killing one another was part of many creatures’ preferred way of life, Viren wasn’t sure he _personally_ had it in him anymore.

Viren still couldn’t quite value the lives of plants and insects as equal to the lives of sentient beings such as humans and elves, but that was probably a fault so deep-ingrained in him - perhaps in all of humanity - that it really couldn’t be helped. That said, the fact of the matter was that there were now great many things Viren was not willing to kill unless he absolutely had to; not even to forge the perfect world. And it was becoming painfully obvious to him that Aaravos had no such scruples.

It was truly ironic that Viren now found himself advocating for caution and mercy, where in almost any argument he had had with Harrow, he'd been the one to lean towards action and drastic measures. Had it always been as frustrating for Harrow to force Viren to see sense as it now was for Viren to try the same with Aaravos?

Viren could not accept Aaravos’ logic. Not anymore. And if he couldn’t trust Aaravos’ judgement, Viren shouldn't give the elf so much control over his choices and actions.

Viren couldn’t allow Aaravos to call the shots anymore.

”You know what: you're right”, Viren admitted. “If I leave you now, I am probably no better than all those who doubted me for my preference for the dark arts. It will be my betrayal, not yours, that will end our partnership. I will never know if your words were sincere, and you would have remained loyal to me until the end, instead of trying to find ways to take advantage of me.”

That truly was the worst part about this; the uncertainty, the what-ifs. What if Aaravos was telling the truth? What if they could have changed the world together? What if Aaravos truly cared about him as something more than just a time-consuming investment or a plaything?

What if?

”But”, Viren said, “I don't have to be fair to you, because this isn't about you. This isn't even about me; it's about _my children_ , and most importantly, my children's safety.”

Viren felt tired to the core, but he turned to face Aaravos. “Can you convince me that Claudia and Soren are safe in my company while you remain in my ear and in my head? Can you guarantee to me that _they_ matter to _you_?”

Aaravos’ face softened, and he put his hands on Viren's arms. ”Your children are _wonderful_. I would love to meet them properly one day, and I would never let anything bad happen to them."

Viren sighed. Why did this have to be so hard?

He so very badly wanted to believe.

”That sounds perfect”, Viren said in a defeated tone. “It is exactly what I wanted to hear. Suspiciously so. Your powers of persuasion were always one of the things I envied most about you, Aaravos. In some ways, they are more impressive than your magics combined.”

Viren looked Aaravos in the eye, and said: “You know how to read people. You're much better at it than I ever will be. You can say the right thing to get them to do your bidding. You said what I wanted to hear, but I can't tell if you really mean it, and if you don’t…”

Viren shook his head, his heart heavy, but his mind made up. “I can't take that gamble. Not anymore. I’m sorry, Aaravos. Goodbye.”

When Viren had been trying to unlock the Earth arcanum, he had found a place in his head that Aaravos could not access. Viren pulled at his connection to Earth now, hoping it would be enough for him to break the connection he and Aaravos shared, and return him to the real world, where his children would be waiting for him.

At first, nothing happened. Aaravos’ face was so motionless that for a moment Viren wondered if their shared world had come to a literal halt.

Then the world around Viren collapsed, and in its place was nothing but cold, endless emptiness, and perfect, distant, stars.

_Well, this went less than great._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope I didn't upset anyone with the heavy themes present in this chapter. I actually like both Viren and Aaravos as characters, but their social interactions in canon are dubious, and I don't think they can be a good influence on each other before both of them have undergone some serious character development.
> 
> In this chapter, it didn't feel right to lighten the mood with humor. The next chapter should not be as big of a gut-punch all the way through, though, and I swear that the mood of the fic won't be this sad in the chapters to come.


	14. Consequences

“ _How dare you_!” Aaravos suddenly screamed. He looked furious in a way Viren had never seen before; his hands curled into fists, his body crouched like he wanted to pounce. To Viren’s horror, it wasn’t just Aaravos who was seething, but the entire world around them seemed to simmer and burn with his hate.

Viren tried to take a step back, but couldn’t.

Viren and Aaravos were standing in a world of nothing. There was nothing to step on; the world around them was empty and disconcertingly devoid of detail. There was only Aaravos, and the waves of power radiating off of him.

 _How can I get out of here?_ Viren glanced around frantically. He had no idea what ‘here’ even was.

“ _You_ ”, Aaravos said in a quiet, hateful voice, pointing his finger at Viren’s chest. “You ungrateful, self-centered, small-minded human!”

Viren didn’t know what to say or do. He had never seen Aaravos this visibly angry, or visibly emotional, or visibly _anything_ , in his presence.

“Do you have any idea who I am?!” Aaravos yelled. “Do you have any idea of all the things I have done for you; for your people?! Of all the _sacrifices_ I made?!”

On the last sentence, hurt and sadness seeped into Aaravos’ voice, but only for a split second, before they were replaced by righteous fury once more.

“I stood up for you!” Aaravos spat out the words more than pronounced them. “I helped humanity rise from the gutters, rise to be such a force to be reckoned with that even the dragons and the elves feared you, and _this_ is how you _thank me_! By letting my enemies trap me in this god-forsaken mirror and then _forgetting about me_!”

Aaravos looked terrifying. His eyes were burning, and it was like everything about him took up more space than before. The elf radiated hate and danger, and for the first time in his life, Viren was truly afraid of Aaravos.

Aaravos took a step closer, despite already being well within Viren’s personal space.

“Aaravos…” Viren began, his voice desperate, but he whatever he intended to say got cut short.

“No! You listen to me now!” Aaravos shouted. “This is _not_ how this works! You can’t just take everything I have to give, and then _turn your back on me_!”

Viren’s breath caught, and he coughed. He couldn’t breathe right.

“Who do you think you are to say _no_ to _me_?” Aaravos asked in a vicious tone, his face now inches apart from Viren’s. “After everything I have done for you, how _dare_ you? You, who are nothing compared to me! Just a small, visionless, _silly_ man!”

Aaravos took in a quick, angry breath, his nostrils flaring.

Viren tried to breath, tried to say something, but he couldn’t.

He looked Aaravos in the eye. He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready to die, but if Aaravos was intent on his life, there was probably nothing Viren could do to stop him.

Viren felt utterly powerless, and completely at Aaravos’ mercy.

“You will not _walk away from me_!” Aaravos shouted.

The elf pushed forward with both hands, but rather than physically shove Viren away, Aaravos’ eyes glowed purple, and black tendrils of magic shot out from his hands.

That was when the pain started. It felt as if Aaravos had bypassed Viren’s skin, and was clawing at his insides instead.

Viren bent over in agony, and let out a soundless gasp. He tried to scream, but _couldn’t_.

The pain ended as abruptly as it had begun. Before Viren had time to orient himself, or determine why, the world shifted.

“Aaaaaaghhh”, Viren got up to a sitting position, and gulped in a greedy breath of air, and then another, and another. His heart felt like it was trying to force its way out of his chest.

“Dad!”

Viren startled, only to realize it was Soren. Soren was here. Viren was… Viren looked around himself. He was in the real world, back in the clearing in the forest.

Viren was lying in Soren’s arms.

Viren wasn’t dead. He closed his eyes as a wave of relief washed over him.

“Dad, what happened? Are you okay?”

Viren opened his eyes. It had been Claudia who asked that. Both his children were here, hovering over him, wearing matching expressions of worry.

Viren reached out and pulled both of his children into a tight embrace. It was just a short hug, all of them awkwardly positioned, but his children hugged him right back, and some small part of Viren that he hadn’t even realized was broken felt like it mended.

Viren was alive. He could still see his children; he still had a chance to tell them how much they meant to him.

“Claudia, Soren”, Viren said, still out of breath. He pulled out of the hug to see both of them properly. “I love you. And I am proud of you. So very proud.”

Claudia looked surprised and Soren outright shocked.

 _…Alright._ Viren had never been great at expressing his feelings, or particularly forthcoming with praise, but surely his children knew without being told that they were the greatest kids any man could ask for?

Viren tried to catch his breath, and only now it occurred to him to look around himself and see what Aaravos was up to.

To Viren’s surprise, Aaravos was not there. He could feel that Aaravos wasn’t just invisible, but truly not present; he had learned to feel Aaravos’ presence and absence during his imprisonment.

That was… Entirely surprising. Viren had no idea how he’d managed to escape Aaravos’ clutches.

But he’d be damned if he wasted this opportunity.

Turning back to face his children, Viren struggled to find the right words to start with, eventually settling for: “I found out how the magic mirror works.”

Both his children blinked at him, but Claudia caught up with the change of topic first: “You did? What does it do?”

“It is used to imprison a powerful ancient Startouched Elf named Aaravos”, Viren breathed.

When they had been talking earlier, Viren had first and foremost wanted to hear how his children were doing, and what all had happened to them during their travels. He hadn’t wanted to bother them with his worries and struggles, but under the circumstances, this really could not wait.

“Dad, what’s that to do with anything?” Soren asked, frowning.

Viren suppressed his knee jerk reaction to get annoyed at Soren for not keeping up; truly, how could Soren have known what Viren was talking about, when Soren knew only peripherally that there was such a thing as a magic mirror in Katolis right now, and when none of them had known what it could do until of late.

Instead Viren looked his son in the eye and explained: “I did something stupid. I made a blood pact with the elf, and now I think my life might be in danger because of it.”

“What do you mean?” Claudia asked, her eyes wide. “Is that what happened just now? Did the elf do this to you?”

Viren tried to quickly sort out his thoughts and feelings to be able to explain this properly: “There is a magical connection that binds me to Aaravos. It has been there for... for however long I have been imprisoned. Maybe around a week or so. And during that time it has grown stronger and stronger.”

In hindsight, Viren felt like an idiot for how little concern he had had over said connection. He should have known better, or at the very least shown more caution or common sense. But none of that could be helped right now, and his children deserved to hear the truth.

“Although Aaravos is still trapped in the mirror, I can see him, and talk to him, as if he was here”, he admitted.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Claudia asked, looking very upset and worried.

Viren shook his head. “I didn’t think it was a problem. Well, not an acute problem, at least.”

“Is this something to do with the gross thing that happened with your ear?” Soren suddenly asked, wincing in disgust.

… _The gross thing with my ear?_ Viren had no idea what Soren was talking about.

“You know, the something that looked like it was moving under your skin just now when you passed out?”

Viren’s face dropped. The centipede. So it _was_ moving inside him. He couldn’t stop a small shudder running through his body at the thought.

_That thing has to go._

“Yes, I’m afraid it is”, Viren said, and Claudia motioned for him to go on, so he did: “There was a magical centipede of some kind that I originally used as a way of communicating with Aaravos. When I was imprisoned, it crawled into my ear.”

Claudia looked horrified, and Soren mouthed a soundless “eeewwww”.

“We have to get it out of me”, Viren said, dead-serious, and his children nodded.

“I already have some ideas”, Claudia said, and Viren couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows in surprise at that.

“We saw something moving behind your ear, and I figured it had something to do with why you collapsed so suddenly”, Claudia explained. “I thought it might be a physical or magical parasite of some kind, and that if it had a corporeal form, maybe we could modify the conditions in your body so as to make you an inhospitable host for the creature.”

Viren smiled fondly at that. Of course Claudia had already thought of a solution even before Viren had realized there was a problem. That was so Claudia.

Then he realized Claudia was giving him a nervous look, waiting to hear if he approved of her plan or not, so Viren answered: “That sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Claudia.”

She visibly relaxed at that, and then launched into a third degree interrogation to ask Viren about everything he knew of the centipede, all the while continuing to babble about the different ingredients she had with her, and which of them would be likeliest to work. A little dumbfounded, Viren answered her questions to the best of his ability, explaining that the creature had come from the world beyond the mirror, and told her everything that it could do.

Soren was fidgeting nervously next to them, glancing around, and eventually asked: “Um, dad?”

“Yes, son”, Viren turned his full attention to Soren.

“Is the elf here right now? I mean, can he hear what we're saying?”

That was an astute question, and Viren nodded approvingly, before frowning while trying to think of a good answer. “I can’t see Aaravos right now, and I don’t think he is here. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I can usually feel his presence. I don’t know why he isn’t here now, or if he can still hear us, despite being away. Nor do I know when he might be coming back.”

Soren nodded, looking serious. Viren knew magical threats made his son uneasy, because he didn’t know if he could help fight them or not. On a whim, Viren put his hand on Soren’s good shoulder and squeezed it. He didn’t really know how else to express what he wanted to say, but lacked words for.

A thought occurred to Viren, and he turned to tell Claudia: “We should perform a ritual to boost the effect of the concoction you are brewing. And I think I can draw power from the Earth to strengthen the effect as well.”

“Dad”, Claudia said seriously, “Isn’t this Earth magic coming from him? From Aaravos, I mean.”

Viren blinked. Right. It was logical for Claudia to assume so. “...Not exactly.”

Viren took in a deep breath, and explained: “It is possible for a human to forge a connection to a primal. A lasting connection, similar in nature to what elves are born with, I should think.”

Claudia gasped. Soren looked confused.

Viren went on: “I know. I was as surprised as you are when Aaravos first told me about it, but he wasn’t wrong. With his guidance, I was able to connect to the Earth primal. Although it is thanks to Aaravos that I did, the connection does not come from him; it is mine, of that I have no doubt.”

“But”, Claudia looked like her thoughts were running wild, “that goes against everything I know about magic.”

Viren nodded. “Yes. I should know; I taught you, and _I_ had no idea it was possible. Turns out, it is one of those things that the elves did not want humanity to know about, but it is real.”

Viren gave Claudia a moment to let the news sink in. She thought about it for a few more heartbeats, before asking: “Can you teach me to connect to a primal?”

The question Viren had dreaded. How to answer it honestly?

“...Maybe”, Viren eventually said. It was no certain promise, but Claudia had looked so anxious, and now she looked so elated, that Viren realised he had to at least try and find a safe way to do it; for Claudia’s sake.

His daughter was worthy of all the magic and wonder the world had to offer: all of it, dark magics and well as primal ones. Well, both his children were, even if Soren had never shown much interest in learning magic, although Viren now found himself briefly wondering if that might have been due to his distaste for dark magic rather than disinterest in magic in all its forms.

They would not have time to discuss such things right now, though. Viren and Claudia had to spend all their energy and time on figuring out a way to get the centipede out of him, and break his connection to Aaravos before the elf returned.

 

***

 

_What have I done?_

It was a question Aaravos had rarely asked himself. It wasn’t really in his nature to doubt or second-guess his actions or choices. He was, after all, Aaravos, the Great Diviner, the Midnight Star. The one who could see farther into the mists of time than any before or after him. He could see the world from a perspective that far exceeded what his countrymen could ever hope to comprehend.

He was Aaravos. He knew what was and what would be, and was therefore unlikely to falter or make mistakes.

Yet right now, begrudgingly, Aaravos had to admit that he had made one. Well, probably two.

Aaravos collapsed against the void between the stars. A part of him knew them to be a mirage rather than the real thing - the stars lacked their true shine, their pull, their magic. In this sea of mock stars, Aaravos was cold, and worst of all, he was alone.

And this time, his loneliness was his own doing.

A bitter smile spread on Aaravos’s face. It was not in Aaravos’ nature to doubt or second-guess his actions or choices. On those rare occasions when he did, the doubt felt like a poison running through his veins. This time it was even worse, since there was more weighing him down than merely the unexpected surprise of self doubt.

Aaravos could not wipe from his memories Viren’s face; how it filled with pure terror, and yet the man’s eyes looked to Aaravos with a glimmer of hope in them. With _trust_. Viren could not believe that Aaravos would hurt him.

But he had.

Aaravos had hurt Viren. How could he have done that? He didn’t want to hurt Viren!

It was the last thing Aaravos wanted.

Aaravos pulled back his hair from his face, and tried to calm himself, but without success. After a thousand years, he really should have gotten used to the feeling of being trapped, but some of the ache never quite went away.

For a child of the stars to be damned to live forever without clear skies, without the enchanting pull of the cosmos above him... Sometimes he wondered if he even remembered it anymore, or merely imagined that he did.

But that wasn’t what bothered him now. He was distracting himself.

It wasn’t the loss of stars that ached Aaravos’ heart today, but something far more bitter: guilt.

The plan had been to make Viren dependent on Aaravos, so that Aaravos might best make use of this new resource available to him; this incredible opportunity. That had been the plan.

Aaravos had no idea at what point he had grown so dependent on Viren in turn.

Possibly from the very first moment he had seen the man. Truly seen him: not just as a vision of a future that may come to pass, but as a real, living and breathing human being standing on the other side of the glass.

Viren had been so beautiful; black-eyed and bloodied, leaning heavily on his staff. Inspecting the mirror quickly - his eyes looking right through Aaravos’ - before ordering soldiers to take it with them back to Katolis.

A cloth had been thrown over the mirror, ending the scene for Aaravos, and yet it had been almost a relief; to be suddenly and unexpectedly faced with so much hope had been almost too much to bear.

It had taken Viren months to crack open the secrets of the mirror; agonizing months, where Aaravos could only watch and wait and hope that the mage on the other side would find a way to see him; months of hoping that soon, Aaravos would hear the other man’s voice.

And to think of the kind of man Viren had turned out to be, when they finally managed to speak! So full of contradictions and mad determination, just listening to Viren talk about his plans could probably keep Aaravos entertained a century or more.

Not that Viren would confide in Aaravos now. Aaravos had hurt Viren. He’d lost his temper, and he’d hurt Viren.

Well, he wouldn’t have had to lose his temper, if Viren hadn’t turned his back on Aaravos, suddenly deciding he wanted out.

No. Aaravos was lying to himself. He knew why Viren had left. That was the worst part; knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Aaravos had brought this on himself.

Viren was right. Aaravos had used and manipulated him the entire time they had known each other. Could he truly blame Viren for being unable to trust someone who did something like that?

Everyone had left Aaravos. Everyone had abandoned him, forsaken him, forgotten about him. He could not let that happen again, not with Viren. To ensure that Viren would never leave him, Aaravos had played every trick in his considerable repertoire to make Viren regard him as someone interesting, as someone enticing, as someone to be trusted.

But at no point had he let Viren see the true Aaravos. It had seemed far too risky to expose himself like that, for Viren to possibly dislike the real him, or take advantage of him right back.

But Viren wasn’t like Aaravos. It probably would not have even occurred to him to try to sneakily take advantage of someone else. Viren was strangely honorable and straightforward that way. When Viren hurt people, it was mostly done out of thoughtlessness, not through careful calculation.

When Viren had finally managed to contact Aaravos for the first time, the human had been desperate. Viren had been so vulnerable and alone that gaining his trust had been almost laughably easy.

Little by little, Viren had opened his heart to Aaravos. Viren had told Aaravos all his worries, and shared his deepest fears and insecurities.

In return, Aaravos had revealed nothing genuine about himself.

Aaravos had to be honest with himself, even if just this once; Viren hadn’t left him, because of some guards Aaravos had killed that Viren thought he shouldn’t have. Their problems didn’t start when Aaravos attacked Viren; at that point, Viren had already decided to leave.

Their issues ran much deeper than that. Although Aaravos had never lied to Viren in the strictest sense of the word, he had also never been truly honest with him, either. Everything Aaravos had said or chosen to omit had been carefully calculated, to provoke the correct response. Sometimes to help Viren achieve greatness; oftentimes to make him rely on Aaravos even more.

Viren could not trust Aaravos, now, because he did not know the real Aaravos: Viren did not know who Aaravos was or what he wanted. Aaravos had not allowed Viren to see those sides of himself.

And so Aaravos was alone, and he wasn't sure what he should do to make things right again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not writing this as a pairing fic. That is to say, I swear I am not doing it on purpose. You are free to interpret romantic undertones in the story, if you wish, but my intent is to study Viren and Aaravos as close friends and companions. Their connection to each other is just so intense that romantic implications seem to write themselves in there of their own accord. Ignore them or enjoy them, whichever works for you.


	15. Flames of War

The doors to Katolis’ Throne Room slammed open, and behind them stood a girl who could not be much older than Ezran was. Harrow had not met the young woman before in person, but he did not need to see her heraldry or crown to guess who she was.

Ezran was seated on the throne. Harrow wanted to keep close to Ezran, but had noticed that his son felt uncomfortable supporting him on his shoulder all the time. To make things easier on both of them, Harrow had taken to sitting on the arm of the throne. That way Harrow was close-by, but not a literal burden.

“Um… hi”, Ezran said, and waved a hand at Queen Aanya and her retinue. Ezran sounded nervous, but not unhappy to see her. “Right, you wanted to see me. There was something you wanted to talk about?”

Ezran smiled innocently at their unexpected visitor. So innocently, in fact, that it made Harrow mentally cringe a bit. He knew that expression all too well. Had his son forgotten about a meeting he was supposed to have with a fellow head of state?

Opeli had been standing slightly left of the throne. Now she bowed at Queen Aanya, and then looked to Ezran and Harrow, silently asking what they wanted her to do about it. Harrow had no doubt that if Ezran indicated that he was not ready to have this meeting, Opeli would find a way to stall.

Ezran didn’t seem to catch on to Opeli’s offer, but that may have been for the best; despite everything else they already had on their plate this morning, a royal visitor should not be dismissed lightly.

Queen Aanya seemed upset: she wasn’t smiling and her shoulders looked stiff. Harrow decided not to encourage his son to postpone the meeting; it wasn’t a good idea to antagonize Katolis’ allies for no good reason.

At least this should give Ezran and Harrow something else to do than just worry about how Amaya’s search through the woods was faring.

Queen Aanya stopped at the foot of the dais and bowed curtly. A bit belatedly, Ezran bowed back.

His son’s attempts at being formal brought a fond smile on Harrow’s face, though he wasn’t sure if anyone could tell, since the beak wasn’t very good at expressing subtle changes of mood. Bit by bit, Harrow had come to the conclusion that if he wanted people to guess what he was thinking, he needed to be overt and often quite physical with his displays of happiness or dismay.

Ezran was still smiling all-too-innocently at Aanya, and the queen’s serious expression broke for a moment to return the smile. Although her face resumed its stately and serious appearance quickly, Harrow had a feeling that the queen wasn’t as angry as she was trying to appear. That gave him confidence that whatever she wanted to talk about, Ezran could handle it.

“I, Queen Aanya of Duren, come before Katolis’ king”, Aanya said formally, and then stopped to glance between Ezran and Harrow with her brow subtly raised in question. Without hesitation, Harrow nodded his head towards his son.

Ezran didn’t see Harrow’s nod, but Opeli and Aanya did, and it would have been difficult to say which one of them looked more curious.

Harrow had already come to his own conclusions about how the line of succession should work under the circumstances. This just reminded him that he would need to make it official at the first opportunity.

Not right now, though. He would first have to explain his plan to Ezran, and right now his son had enough things to worry about already.

The Queen of Duren nodded at Harrow, looked to Ezran, and stated her business: “King Ezran, I come before you to pledge mine and my kingdom’s help in Katolis’ war against our common enemy, the dragons and elves of Xadia.”

Everyone in the room stared at her open-mouthed. Everyone but her entourage. You could have heard a needle drop.

_...Oookay, so much for a courtesy call._

Harrow turned to see his son’s reaction. Ezran looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “...What?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t want a war?”

“Nobody wants a war”, Aanya answered in a regal tone. “But sometimes, we must make hard choices to guarantee the safety and wellbeing of our people. This is why I have come here to announce Duren’s intention to more closely ally ourselves with the great kingdom of Katolis, so we may help…”

“But more war is not the answer”, Ezran exclaimed. Everyone in the room was looking at the young king now. Ezran looked like he was trying to come up with a way to explain something that should be so obvious that it should not need explaining.

So far Harrow had stayed quiet, because he didn’t want to complicate an already awkward situation with a one-sided conversation between the king and a bird. However, he could tell Ezran didn’t know what to do, and he would not leave his son alone with the weight of his responsibilities.

Harrow told Ezran to take in a deep breath.

Ezran turned to look at his father.

“ _Yes, it is very surprising that Duren has all of a sudden decided to take a more active stance in the war against Xadia_ ”, Harrow communicated to his son to let him know that it wasn’t just him who was confused by this turn of events.

Harrow encouraged Ezran to ask Queen Aanya what had brought about this change. Ezran smiled a little, and nodded at Harrow.

In the meanwhile, Opeli interjected herself into the conversation on Ezran’s behalf: “Whatever offer Lord Viren made to you during the Meeting of the Pentarchy, it does not represent Katolis’ official standing. As you very well know by now.”

Aanya glanced at Opeli, but then returned her eyes to Ezran.

“My apologies”, she said politely. “I’m quite new to being a ruler, so it is possible I misunderstood something, but I was under the impression that Katolis is still at war with Xadia.”

After a heartbeat Opeli answered “We are” at the exact same time as Ezran said “No!”

Queen Aanya raised a curious eyebrow, though she did not seem genuinely surprised by the conflicting answers she had received.

Opeli bowed at Ezran, letting the young king take it up from here.

“I guess we are at war with Xadia”, Ezran said eventually. “But we don’t want to be. We’re trying to end the war.”

“I see”, Queen Aanya replied a tad coolly. “A noble goal, I’m sure. And do the Xadians share Katolis’ desire for peace?”

“Um, we’re working on it”, Ezran answered hesitantly, nodded to himself, and added with a bit more confidence: “We’ll get there.”

Aanya’s eyes grew cold, her mouth a hard line. “If there are peace talks going on between Katolis and Xadia, why was Duren not notified of this?”

“No, that’s not what I meant”, Ezran said and waved his hands apologetically. “There are no peace talks. Not yet, anyway, but my brother Callum, and our friends Rayla and Zym, are working on bringing an end to the fighting.”

Ezran still hadn’t gotten a chance to ask Queen Aanya what this was about, and Harrow wondered if he should remind his son, or if that would just distract him even more.

Aanya crossed her arms. “Whatever your brother and friends are attempting, I regret to inform you that it is isn’t going as well as you expected.”

Ezran looked devastated upon hearing that. “What do you mean?”

Harrow pushed Ezran with his head to console him, and told Ezran that he was also worried about Callum (very worried, in fact, but he didn’t say that out loud), but that right now they needed to focus on the task at hand: finding out what was behind Duren’s new direction, and deciding what to do about it.

In the meanwhile, Aanya pulled a small parchment scroll from her pocket in a theatrical motion. She lifted it above her head, so that everyone in the room could see it, and said in a sad voice: “I’ve received troubling news from home: a dragon has attacked one of Duren’s towns closest to the Xadian border.”

Harrow’s eyes widened in surprise. That was terrible news indeed.

“Oh no!” Ezran said. “I’m so sorry for your guys. I hope nobody got hurt?”

Aanya took in a deep breath, and then went on a bit more calmly: “I thank you for your condolences. I have not had the chance to inspect the damages with my own eyes, but according to the information I received, luck was on our side; the dragon was spotted hours before the attack truly begun, so most people were able to evacuate in time.”

“Phew”, Ezran said. “That’s a relief.”

Aanya looked at him seriously. “Yes, it is. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the fields and orchards surrounding the town, which I am informed are still on fire as we speak.”

Ezran’s eyes looked wide and innocent. “That sounds awful”, he said earnestly.

Harrow agreed; that was awful. In his mind, he tried to quickly estimate just how dire the situation truly was.

Duren was the most fertile and agrarian of all the five human kingdoms, and their most fertile fields were the ones closest to Xadian border. Duren provided food not just for their own use, but also to be traded to the other kingdoms. A large chunk of Katolis’ food came from Duren.

Harrow obviously didn’t have the exact numbers of what had been lost, or how irreparable the damages would be, but if this was what had made Duren’s queen change her mind about the war, the situation was probably bad. That was bad news not just for the people of that town, but for everyone living west of the border.

“I can’t believe a dragon would do that”, Ezran went on sincerely. “Sure, they were really angry when they thought humans had killed the Dragon Prince, but they should know by now that he is okay, so I don’t really understand why they would do something like that.”

After a moment of consideration, Ezran added: “Did the people of that town do something to provoke the dragon?”

Queen Aanya literally gaped. “To _provoke_ the dragon?” she asked, incredulous. “They are civilians. Farmers! Peaceful men and women who have now lost their homes and their livelihoods, and become refugees on their own land. How dare you imply they _had it coming_.”

“That’s not what I tried to say!” Ezran said quickly, waving his hands in desperate arcs. “I just think that there is probably some explanation for this, even if we can’t see it right now.”

“Yes”, Aanya said breathlessly. “There is an explanation: if Duren loses a major portion of her harvests for even a single year, that means there is less food for everyone, including Katolis’ armies.”

Aanya was dead-serious now. “The dragons are trying to _starve us_ into losing the war, and they don’t seem to care how many innocent people will suffer as a result of their chosen tactic.”

Ezran looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t know what to say. He hugged Bait tighter instead.

Harrow wished he could scoop up his boy in his arms and keep him away from all the terrible realities of war for at least a couple more years. Unfortunately, for multiple reasons, he no longer could.

Aanya recovered her composure, and continued in a more diplomatic tone: “Katolis and Duren have been staunch allies for many years. Both kingdoms share a border with Xadia, and although Duren has not sent her forces to the frontlines, financially and politically we’ve always backed up Katolis in your attempt to reclaim mankind’s ancestral homelands on the Xadian side of the border. Whether you or I like it or not, Duren is already invested in this war. Now we want to strengthen that alliance, and commit our troops to the common cause. Are you really going to turn down our offer?”

Ezran looked miserable. “When we spoke during your welcoming party, you said you refused to send your soldiers to fight in the war. I thought you were like me; that you don’t want a war, either.”

Aanya looked insulted, her eyes narrowing. “I want what’s best for my people. So long as there is nothing, not even the threat of retribution, that I can use to stop the Xadians from doing as they please with us, I cannot guarantee my people’s continued safety. What kind of a queen would I be to sit on my hands and do nothing?”

The Queen of Duren took a pause, and then asked: “Do you accept my offer of military alliance? Yes or no?”

“ _You can ask for more time to think over her proposition_ ”, Harrow told Ezran in a sympathetic, yet authoritative tone.

Harrow still didn’t know why or how Ezran could understand him even when he was in Pip’s body, but his son could. Right now Harrow wished dearly that his tone would be conveyed as well as his intent; the last thing he wanted was to make his son feel like his father did not approve of how Ezran was conducting his kingly duties.

Ezran looked to his dad with big, sad eyes, and slightly shook his head. “I don’t think my answer will change, even if I wait”, he said so quietly only Harrow could hear it.

“ _You and I need to talk_ ”, Harrow said bluntly. “ _Just you and me. This would give us a chance to do that._ ”

Ezran looked surprised, but he nodded, looking almost relieved.

Ezran turned back towards Queen Aanya. “I… I need some time to think over your proposition.”

Aanya sighed, but also nodded. “Very well. When can I expect to hear your answer?”

“Later today”, Ezran promised, sounding surprisingly confident.

 

***

 

“Well that was a nightmare”, Ezran said as soon as it was just the two of them in the backroom behind the Throne Room. “I can’t believe she suddenly wants to go to war!”

Harrow’s son walked over to one of the chairs, flopped down on it, and started massaging his temples. His hands found the crown. For a moment Ezran looked thoughtful, but then he yanked the crown off his head, and put it on the table.

Harrow flew to sit on the back of another chair next to Ezran’s.

“Dad?” Ezran started hesitantly, not meeting his father’s eyes.

“ _What is it, son?_ ” Harrow asked.

Ezran sighed. “I think you should do this.”

Ezran turned his sad yet hopeful eyes to Harrow, and went on in a blur: “I’ll still translate for you, of course, but you should make the decision. You should make all the decisions. You’re so much better at this, and you’re the real king, anyway. I only took the job, because there was no one else who wanted it.”

Harrow grimaced. As a father, there was nothing he wanted more than to lift such a heavy burden from his young son’s shoulders. As a king, however, he had to think about the bigger picture.

“ _No_ ”, Harrow answered shortly. “ _I will still be here for you, and I will help you in any way I can, but I will not make this decision for you, and I will not take the throne from you._ ”

Ezran’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. “Why not?” he asked.

_How to best explain my thoughts on a morally complicated situation to my ten-year-old son?_

Harrow sighed. There was no hiding behind the ‘because I’m your dad and I said so’ excuse now.

“ _Ezran, this thing that happened to me - being put in this body - it’s not right_ ”, Harrow said seriously. “ _I was supposed to die. I’m glad that I didn’t, but if everything had gone naturally, I would be dead._ ”

“You didn’t ask to be put in Pip’s body”, Ezran said seriously. “And you must know that nobody thinks it’s your fault, right?”

Harrow nodded. “ _I didn’t ask for this, and those who know me well know that I would never agree to something like this. It’s just… Let’s think for a second that the King of Katolis is someone else. Not me or you, but some totally different guy. Can you try to picture that for me?_ ”

Ezran looked thoughtful, but then he smiled mischievously. “Can this other king have big red curly hair? And weird toenails?”

Harrow smiled warmly at his son. “ _You know, he just might._ ”

“And maybe a glass eye!” Ezran said excitedly. “Maybe he’s a pirate. Did I tell you that I met a pirate? At least I think he was a pirate, although he didn’t do anything particularly pirate-y...”

Harrow sighed. “ _What he looks like isn’t really the point. Whatever his appearance, this imaginary King of Katolis is in a situation like the one we found ourselves in; he knows that he is dying, and somebody has suggested to him that his life could be saved by putting his soul in a different body._ ”

Ezran looked down sadly, tucking his hands under his thighs and kicking the footstool before him absentmindedly. “Are the assassins coming for him too?”

“ _Not necessarily_ ”, Harrow said. “ _Maybe he’s just really ill. Anyway, the king agrees to go through with the swap. People of Katolis are happy that their king is saved, and he lives a long and happy life._ ”

Ezran looked thoughtful, and asked: “Did they put him in someone else’s body, or an empty one, like the one Aunt Amaya brought with her?”

Harrow grimaced. “ _Ezran, we don’t know for a fact that that poor soldier’s body is empty. That is just something your aunt believes. But for the sake of our story, let’s assume that he did find an empty body to put his soul in, and nobody got hurt._ ”

Ezran smiled brightly. “Well in that case, I’m glad the Pirate King is okay.”

Harrow nodded, and then said: “ _The story isn’t over yet, though. Now our king is old, and he is dying again. He decides that he wants to change bodies again, so he can be young and healthy once more._ ”

Ezran’s jaw dropped. “Why would he do that? That doesn’t sound fair!”

“ _Well, you see, the Pirate King argues that his kingdom still needs him. He is the oldest and wisest ruler they have ever had. He doesn’t have any kids, so there isn’t really anyone else to take his place once he is gone. Do you still think he should be allowed to do it?_ ”

Ezran frowned. “...No.”

“ _Why not?_ ” Harrow prodded.

“If he does it again, then what’s to stop him from doing it again, and again, and again”, Ezran explained. “And that doesn’t sound fair. Everyone else only gets one life. Why should the Pirate King get so many?”

Harrow was so proud of his son. He should not have doubted Ezran’s ability to tackle difficult moral dilemmas. The boy was young, and new to being king, but his heart was in the right place.

“ _You're right. And if the Pirate King should not have done it the second time, or any time after that, should he still have been allowed to do it that first time, when he was really ill?_ ”

“But you wouldn’t do that!” Ezran insisted. “You wouldn’t try to use the soulfang to live forever. Nobody wants that to happen. I doubt even Lord Viren at his maddest would have wanted that.”

A fond yet sad feeling took over Harrow at the thought.

“ _It would not surprise me in the slightest to learn that I have thought this through better than Lord Viren ever did_ ”, Harrow eventually said, and rolled his eyes for good measure. " _I’m sure Viren was so busy solving the problem he could see right in front of him that he didn’t stop to think about how many new problems his ‘solution’ would create in turn._ ”

It still hurt to think of how differently everything might have turned out if Harrow had been able to explain his feelings on the matter this well to Viren on that fateful night. Come to think of it, almost any speech would probably have worked better than the one Harrow had actually ended up giving...

Harrow shook his head. No point dwelling on that now.

Harrow sighed, and went on a bit more calmly: “ _Do you now see why I can’t be the king anymore?_ ”

Ezran was looking at his shoes, and probably wiggling his toes in them.

Harrow continued: ” _I may not have chosen to go on living like this, but whether I chose this life or not, there needs to be some kind of price to pay. If I get to change my body and keep the throne as well, it creates a very bad precedent, and someone who is less nice than me could take advantage of that, one day._ ”

Harrow pushed Ezran gently with one of his wings to get the boy to look up at him. “ _It’s not all bad though, because you know what? Unlike the Pirate King, I have two wonderful boys who will look after my kingdom, and I know they will do a great job of it, too._ ”

Harrow play-attacked Ezran’s hair with his beak, and at last his son looked a little less solemn.

“Dad, stop it!” Ezran said, laughed, and put his arms over his head to cover as much of his hair as he could.

Harrow let up. Ezran opened one eye to peek at him, and for a short moment, it was as if nothing had changed.

Then Ezran sighed and asked, fear and hope in his eyes: “But you’re not going anywhere, right?”

Harrow pushed his head against Ezran’s cheek. “ _I’m not going anywhere_ ”, he promised. “ _You are now king, and I won’t make your decisions for you, but otherwise I will be here for you. I will help and advice you to the best of my ability._ ”

Ezran nodded, but he still looked thoughtful.

“ _What is it?_ ” Harrow asked.

“Callum and I will do our best...”, Ezran said, paused, and went on: “ _I_ will do my best to be a good king.”

Harrow smiled at him. “ _I know you will._

_“Being a good king isn’t always easy. There will be times when you feel like you are in over your head, but I’ll share a little secret with you: you don’t have to do it all alone. It is important to stay true to who you are and what you believe in, but that doesn’t mean that you can never ask for help._

“ _Sometimes other people know more about the situation than you do, or have thought of an idea that you wouldn’t have thought of, and it is okay to listen to them and take their words to heart. Sometimes, it’s even okay to change your mind, if you learn something important that you didn’t know before. That doesn’t make you a weak king; it makes you a considerate and thoughtful one._ ”

Ezran frowned, and hung his head low. “You think that I should say yes to Aanya, and continue the war with her help.”

Harrow wanted to deny it, but that would be the easy way out. Instead he sighed, and said: “ _That is probably what King Harrow would have done in your shoes, but it doesn’t have to be what King Ezran will do. Besides, we’ve already seen where King Harrow’s decisions got us, and boy what a mess it is. I think I would like to see where King Ezran’s decisions could take us from here._ ”

Ezran looked up at him, and although his eyes were still sad, there was also determination in them. “If we take revenge on Xadia every time they attack us, the cycle will never end”, Ezran said thoughtfully. “Someone needs to put an end to it, and since we can’t control what the Xadians do, it might as well be us.”

Harrow nodded. “ _Lead by example. A wise decision._ ”

“But what if it’s not the _right_ decision?” Ezran asked, worried.

Harrow shrugged. “ _We can’t always know what the right decision is. All we can do is make the best decision we can with the knowledge that we have. Let’s put it this way: do you think that you will regret your decision if it doesn’t pan out the way you had hoped it would?_ ”

Ezran looked surprised, but also like he was genuinely thinking it over. He shook his head. “If the war has to go on, it will really really suck, but I don’t want to be the one keeping it going.”

Suddenly Ezran’s face fell. “What am I going to say to Aanya? She is sad and angry for what happened to her people, and I feel sorry for her, and for them, but I also know that I have to give peace a chance.”

Harrow considered how to answer that, but before Harrow had formed a reply, Ezran went on: “I’m not sure what is going on in Xadia right now, but I have to trust that Callum and Rayla are working on it. If our forces attack the border now, it will make things even harder for them.”

Harrow had thought about that as well. The fact that his other son was in Xadia as they speak, and could be taken hostage or killed if Katolis did anything to provoke the Xadians, weighed heavy on Harrow’s mind and heart. Knowing that Callum was in danger would have made it a very difficult decision to carry on with the war. However, it was no longer his decision to make, and luckily his son had chosen a different path.

“ _Then you should tell Queen Aanya exactly that_ ”, Harrow said encouragingly. “ _If you wish,_ _you could also offer to help Duren rebuild the town, or even offer to share Katolis’ yield with the people of Duren this year. Who knows: if we pool our resources, there might be enough to go around so that nobody needs to go hungry._ ”

Ezran still looked sad, but he nodded. “I should ask her to come back right away. I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“ _First we should explain to Opeli and the others that you are the rightful king of Katolis, and why that is. I’m sure she’ll breathe easier knowing how the line of succession should be interpreted in this situation_ ”, Harrow pointed out. “ _I can do the talking, if you want me to, but I’ll still need you to interpret for me.”_

“Of course”, Ezran said happily, and then frowned. “Too bad that Aunt Amaya, Corvus, Commander Gren, and other people who need that explained to them are out looking for Viren, Claudia, and Soren right now.”

“ _We’ll just have to explain it again when they get back_ ”, Harrow said reasonably. For once he was grateful that the beak was not particularly expressive. Ezran probably couldn’t tell just how worried his father was about Amaya’s mission to track down Katolis’ former high mage.

_We have no idea what they might encounter out there. So many things could go wrong._

Harrow knew that Amaya was tough as nails, but there was still a part of him that wished he could have gone with them. Rationally he knew that as a bird, he would have been little more than a hindrance in a fight, and if he wanted to talk to Viren, he would have had to bring Ezran with them, and that was out of the question. And still...

“When they bring Viren back, and he can perform the soulfang ritual, you’ll take Aunt Amaya up on her offer, right?” Ezran asked out-of-the-blue.

“ _Ezran, we just went over this…_ ”

“But it’s not the same”, Ezran insisted. “I get it why you hesitate; I was freaked out by the idea at first, too, but then I thought about it some more, and… You’re already in a body that doesn’t belong to you. It will be weird seeing you in a stranger’s body, but probably not more so than seeing you in Pip’s body. We’d all just get used to it. And if you don’t take Amaya up on her offer, then you’ll never be able to speak with Callum again.”

That was… Harrow had not thought about it that way, but thinking about it now, and imagining the hurt look on his older son’s face... There were so many things he hadn’t had the chance to say to him.

“ _It’s still wrong_ ”, Harrow said, though he wasn’t as convinced about it as he had been earlier that morning when talking with Amaya.

Ezran looked sad, but he didn’t argue the point further.

Harrow wanted to believe that he had made the moral choice here, but why did a part of him feel like he had once again taken the easy way out? Was Harrow just prioritizing his own comfort and sense of righteousness over his children’s comfort and happiness?

Harrow sighed, and reminded himself that his sons were brave and strong; braver and stronger than Harrow had realized. On their own, Callum and Ezran had set out to accomplish something Harrow himself hadn’t even dreamt possible, and Harrow could not have been more proud of them.

His sons were capable, and they would have each other to rely on - Harrow did not allow himself to even consider the possibility that Callum would not return. His boys knew what they were doing, and one day - possible very soon - they would make all of Katolis proud.

None of that erased the gnawing doubt in Harrow’s heart that if he left his sons to fend for themselves when he could have been there for them more fully, was that bravery and a show of backbone? Or was it a cop out from his duties as their father?

During what Harrow had thought to be his final hours, he’d looked back on his reign. He’d seen much he did not like; many things he would do differently given the chance. Locked up in a cage in Viren’s study and in the body of a bird, Harrow had had even more time to think about the many mistakes he had made down the line.

Harrow had set out to change the world for the better, but his reign as king had been one of near endless conflict, just like that of his father before him, and his father before him. Surely a wise king would have at some point realized to leave well enough alone and end the crusade against Xadia?

Harrow didn’t have enough hubris to think that Katolis could not go on without him. He might once have had that, but he certainly no longer did. That said, his sons were and always would be a different matter. Callum and Ezran were his responsibility, and nothing would ever change that fact.

Maybe Harrow was still looking at this the wrong way. Maybe in his final hours, he should have spent less time worrying about how posterity would view him, and more time worrying about whether his children had gotten to the Banther Lodge safely.

Harrow turned to regard Ezran. Ezran was gazing out the window, apparently oblivious to his father’s inner turmoil. Or perhaps his son was purposefully giving Harrow some time to think things over.

Currently, Harrow had no means of making his voice heard without Ezran’s help, but this arrangement couldn’t go on forever. Harrow did not want to be a burden on Ezran; he didn’t want his son to feel obliged to keep his father by his side at all times.

Perhaps they’d find someone else, who also had the gift of speaking with animals, and that person could work as an interpreter for Harrow? Or maybe they’d figure out a sign language for birds, as hard as it was for Harrow to imagine what it would look like.

“Dad?” Ezran spoke up, and Harrow turned to look at his son. “Can trees dance?”

For years, Harrow had thought his son simply had a very wild imagination. Under the circumstances, he decided to take at face value even Ezran’s weirder conversation openers.

Harrow flew to his son’s shoulder, and peered out the window.

At first, he had no idea what Ezran had been referring to; everything looked normal outside. After a moment, however, he could see it too. Even from this distance and height, it was clear that the trees around Katolis Castle were acting funny.

It was not a windy morning, but the trees were still swinging wildly, in unison, and around a specific spot in the forest.

“ _That is weird_ ”, Harrow admitted to Ezran. “ _What could possibly cause them to…?_ ”

Harrow and Ezran arrived at the same conclusion at the same time: “Viren.”

_Man, I hope Amaya is seeing this._


	16. Confrontation

The first rays of sunshine had just begun to light their new campsite. Claudia stretched her back and arms, and rubbed her eyes, realizing absentmindedly that they had stayed up all night.

Claudia would have given almost anything to have some of her hot brown morning potion right about now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this tired.

Actually, come to think of it, she could: right after she’d fixed her brother’s spine, although it had been a different kind of tiredness then; the kind that ran bone deep, or maybe even deeper.

_Now is so not the time to be thinking about that_ , Claudia told herself, and focused on the work at hand.

They were almost done with the preparations. Soon they’d be ready to start the ritual proper. She needed to draw just a few more runes with chalk on the rock, and the ritual circle she and Dad had designed would be complete.

Soren yawned close-by, leaning against a tree trunk. He was keeping watch in case someone tried to sneak up on them.

During the night, Claudia, Soren, and Viren had relocated their camp further into the forest, and unto an opening next to a creek. Water was what they’d been after, but the new location also had the added benefit of having rocky outcrop nearby. Rock was easier to draw on, so they’d decided to have the ritual right here.

Salt would have been better, Claudia knew, but it wasn’t like they had a ritual circle’s worth of salt with them, so chalk would have to do.

_There_. Claudia drew the final runes, and got up to inspect her latest work. Everything seemed to be in order here.

Next she went to check on the poison she’d left to brew by the side of the river. It seemed to be ready to go, too, if the putrid smell was anything to go by.

“I think we’re ready”, she said out loud.

Dad nodded and got up. He’d been drawing a smaller set of runes inside the banishing circle. Earth runes. Dad believed his new primal connection would work as a stabilizer in case the ritual didn’t work as planned.

Claudia hoped he was right, but personally, she had not spent much time studying Earth magic or its effects, and therefore couldn’t say for sure. Until of late, there had seemed little point in studying Earth magic too closely, or any of the other primal magics outside the Sky arcane, for that matter, when a Sky primal stone was what they had.

Well, they had had a Sky primal stone, she reminded herself. Callum had broken it to help a dragon hatch. That was just another piece of crazy in a long list of things that didn’t really make sense anymore. Since when had Callum joined the dragons’ side in this war, anyway?

No, her mind was definitely wandering now. What she needed to do was focus. The hardest part was still up ahead, and she needed to be on her top game to get this right.

“Sis?”

Claudia jumped a little. It was obviously just Soren, but she hadn’t noticed her brother had walked over to her. Claudia raised her eyebrows in question.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Soren looked at her with concern.

Claudia took in a deep breath and forced a smile on her face. “Never readier.”

It didn’t look like Soren was buying it, though.

Claudia sighed. She didn’t feel ready, not by a long shot, but time was in short supply. Surely Soren could see that?

“We have no idea when the elf returns, or what he might do to Dad when he does”, Claudia reminded her brother. “We _have to_ start the ritual right away.”

“Not right away”, Dad said all of a sudden, and walked over to them.

Claudia looked at their dad with wide eyes. Dad looked at least as tired as she felt, but if he was about to suggest that they stop to rest _now_ , when they were so close to the end, Claudia just might punch him.

“Daaad…” she drawled out, and pursed her lips in frustration.

“We’ll start soon”, Dad amended, smiled at her tiredly, and turned to smile at Soren as well. “You’re sister is right: we are in a bit of a hurry, but not in such a hurry that we can’t sit down for a bit to catch our collective breaths.”

Soren looked nervous, but he nodded and said: “Okay.”

Soren and Dad both sat down on the grass by the river.

Claudia frowned. Dad was acting weird. Not possessed-by-an-evil-elf weird, or even weird in a bad way, necessarily, but not like his usual self either. She didn’t have the energy to address it right now, though, so she sat down as well.

After a pause, Dad took in a deep breath and said: “Soren. Claudia. I know I haven’t been the best father. You are wonderful, and deserve a better parent than what I have been to you. I’m not sure I have any right to ask this of you, but I want you both to know that…”

“You’re not going to die”, Soren blurted out.

Claudia and Viren turned to look at him. It took a moment for Claudia’s tired brain to catch up, but when it did, her head snapped towards their dad. “Is that what this is about? Are you trying to say _goodbye_ to us?”

Viren closed his eyes and rubbed a hand down his face. “...No. That’s not what this is about. The things that have happened of late have simply made me realize how much...”

“Good”, Claudia cut him off, and nodded sharply. “Because Soren is right: you’re going to be fine. This is not a goodbye. There is no need for a goodbye.”

Claudia willed herself to believe that. Their dad was not going to die. Not now, not after all they’d been through: they’d only just gotten him back from the madness that had taken him over and twisted him into someone he wasn’t.

Claudia was angry at their dad, and she loved him, but above all, she wasn’t ready to lose him. So their dad would not die. She wouldn’t allow it.

Dad put his hand back in his lap, resting it over his other hand, and for a moment, he looked more lost and vulnerable than Claudia had ever seen him. Seeing their dad so ashamed and lost for words left Claudia speechless. Instead of saying anything, she leaned over and gave him a tight hug.

She’d meant it to be just a quick hug, but before Claudia had time to pull away, Soren enveloped them both in his arms, and quipped: “Group hug time!”

Claudia couldn’t help smiling against her dad’s shoulder at that. Her brother was such a jerk sometimes. Her big, goofy, lovable jerk.

Come to think of it, Dad was a jerk, too, but that didn’t mean he had to grovel on his knees to let them know that deep down he loved them both very much. They already knew that.

Dad may have been emotionally distant at times, and bad at expressing himself, but he had still been there for them during their entire lives. Claudia couldn’t even count how many times Dad had gone sleigh riding with them at the Banther Lodge or played dodgeball with them in the castle’s courtyard, despite how much he hated both activities.

Dad might not have said that he loved them all that often, but actions spoke words too.

The family pulled apart, and for a moment no one said anything. Eventually Dad opened his mouth, but instead of another big speech, he just said: “Thank you.”

Claudia smiled at him. It was a tired but genuine smile. She was still angry about some of the stuff their dad had done, especially the stuff he’d ordered Soren and her to do, but she also knew now that Dad felt sorry about that. For now, that was enough.

“There is one thing we do kind of need to talk about”, Soren said.

Claudia was surprised that her brother was so chatty. Soren wasn’t shy per se, but he’d been guarded around Dad of late.

Dad nodded at Soren encouragingly. “Yes. What do you want to talk about?”

“Okay, so once we’ve removed the parasitic elf from Dad’s ear, totally safely and without any complications: then what?” Soren asked quickly. “I mean, are we headed for the Xadian border or...?”

Right. That was a good question. Claudia hadn’t really thought past their current exorcism plan, either. She turned to look at Dad.

Dad looked thoughtful, but then he sighed and smiled sadly. “You two should head to Del Bar. And I… I would want nothing more than to go with you, but unfortunately, when all of this is said and done... I have to go back to Katolis.”

“What?” Claudia asked, and muttered under her breath: “So help me if this is about that stupid mirror…”

“But we just got you out of that place, and it was like _super hard_ ”, Soren complained.

“Words cannot express how grateful I am to both of you for coming to rescue me”, Dad answered. “Being on the run with you has given me a chance to clear my head, and talk to both of you, and to apologize for the things I did to you. It was a chance I thought I might never get.”

Dad sighed, and went on a bit less-defensively: “I have to go back for Harrow. If we all just up and vanish, there’s no one left in Katolis who knows Harrow is in a bird, and can get him out of said bird.”

“Hate to break this to you, but everyone in Katolis knows Harrow is in a bird”, Soren pointed out. “Ezran can talk to animals, or whatever, so he’s probably the one who figured it out first, but at this point the whole castle knows. They’re basically gossiping about nothing else.”

“Oh”, was Dad’s short reply. He looked mildly horrified, but like he also tried hard to reign himself in. “Right. It’s... public news. Everybody knows. That would certainly explain how you two found out about it on your own.”

Dad was quiet for a moment, but then he said: “However, the part about getting him out of the bird still applies. It’s safe to say that Harrow and I did not part on the best of terms, and I doubt he considers me his friend anymore - or ever wants to see me again, for that matter - but putting all that aside, I’m still the one who put him in the body of a bird against his will.

“Even if Harrow views me as his enemy, to me he is still the closest thing I ever had to a brother. It’s my responsibility to at least offer to help. I doubt he would choose to remain in Pip’s body, so I owe it to him to remain available to try to get him out.”

Claudia frowned. “Get him out _how_? Whose body would you even put him in?”

Soren’s eyes grew wide. “Dad, don’t trade places with him! I know he is our king and stuff, but there has got to be some limit on the kinds of sacrifices even a loyal citizen of Katolis is expected to make for their king. Besides, none of us can talk to animals, so that would be just another way of losing you.”

“I’m not going to trade places with him”, Dad answered, aghast. “I doubt Harrow would agree to take my body, newly parasite-free or not.”

Claudia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Then what? What is your big plan?”

Dad closed his eyes. “Honestly, I don’t have one. I’ll have to figure something out. Nonetheless, this is still something I must do.”

Claudia was still thinking that over, when Soren shrugged and replied: “Okay. I guess we’re going back to Katolis then.”

Dad blinked. “...We?”

Soren smiled at him confidently, and explained: “We only just got this dream team back together again. No way we’re splitting the party now just because you’ve got an errand to run in Katolis. Besides, think about all that went wrong the last time we left you by yourself. If we go to visit Mom in Del Bar now, who knows what you might get up to while we’re away.”

Dad looked like he very much wanted to object to that, but couldn’t quite decide which part to address first.

Claudia came to her brother’s support: “Soren’s right. If you’re going back to Katolis, then we all are.”

“You two are in a lot of trouble because of me”, Dad pointed out. “You’re fugitives now too, remember? I don’t know what they will do to you if you go back, but I won’t have you rot in prison because of my mistakes.”

“It’s okay, Dad”, Soren said. “We’ll just explain to them that this was all a big misunderstanding.”

Claudia nodded and pointed at her brother. “Exactly! We’ll tell them about the elf in the mirror, and how he made you do all that evil stuff.”

Viren groaned. “Even if they took your word for it, and believed that Aaravos was controlling my actions at least some of the time, I still committed treason twice over before ever setting my eyes on that elf. I doubt they’ll agree to overlook that.”

“Do they know that, though...?” Claudia drawled out.

“If they don’t, then they’re about to find out, because I’m going to tell them”, Dad answered frustratedly.

“Ha!” Claudia said and pointed her finger at Dad. “I knew it! I knew this wasn’t just about Harrow. You’re going back because of some misplaced sense of duty, or because you feel like you have to ‘pay for what you’ve done’, or something silly like that.”

Both Soren and Dad turned to look at her funny. “What?” she asked. “Is it something I said?”

“Um.” Soren rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “ _Shouldn’t_ Dad pay for what he’s done, though? Like, isn’t that kind of the right thing to do here?”

Claudia huffed in frustration. How was she supposed to keep her family safe and together if her brother and father both insisted on being this thick-headed and self-destructive?

“Claudia”, Dad said softly. “I know this is hard to accept, but Soren is right. Even if I could lie my way out of this situation, I probably shouldn’t. Being dishonest and secretive and hiding things from the people closest to me is what got me into this mess to begin with.”

Dad put her hand on Claudia’s arm, and squeezed it reassuringly. “I promise that I will do my utmost to convince them that I’m not solely to blame for what happened to those guards. However, I won’t look Harrow in the eye and lie about not having been myself when I knocked him unconscious and put his soul in a bird.”

Claudia was holding back frustrated tears. Why did the people she cared about most have to be such heroic jerks?

There was a flash of something unreadable in Dad’s eyes. He turned to look at Soren and asked: “Did the princes ever find out about the secret mission I gave you? Did anyone?”

Soren looked really uncomfortable, so Claudia answered for him: “I doubt it. Soren didn’t go through with it, and he only told me about it after he’d been paralyzed, so I doubt he told anyone before that.”

“What she said”, Soren agreed quietly, and swallowed hard. He wasn’t looking at either of them in the eye. It still made Claudia’s temper flare to think that her brother felt more guilt over this than their father did.

“I think we should just not mention that, then”, Dad answered cool-headedly. He looked to Claudia, and misread the anger in her eyes, since he hastily added: “Not because I’m not willing to take the fall for my own mistakes, but because I don’t want anyone to mistakenly believe that you or Soren had anything to do with them.”

Claudia wiped at the corners of her eyes and nodded sharply. “I agree with Dad. It would be a bad idea.”

It was bad enough that their dad was in deep trouble; the last thing they needed was for people to blame Soren for it, too.

They both turned to look at Soren. Claudia’s brother still didn’t look either of them in the eye, but he shrugged and said: “I guess so. No harm, no foul, right?”

Viren frowned. “I’m not trying to erase or belittle what happened. I can’t begin to imagine how being given such an order must have made you...”

But Soren cut him off, sounding defensive and frustrated: “We all agree that mum’s the word, so that’s that then! Let’s just move on with it. I don’t think the evil worm-thingy is going to just crawl out of Dad’s ear on its… Ew, why did I have to say that? Now I can’t erase the image from my head. Yuck.”

Claudia punched his oaf of a brother affectionately on the arm, and then left her hand resting on his shoulder. Something was still bothering Soren, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, and so it would just have to wait. They were still on a tight schedule, even if Dad wanted to act like they weren’t.

Dad just sat there, looking really tired.

“Here.” Claudia took the poison from where she’d left it to cool, and handed it to Dad. “Drink up. It’s time to begin.”

Dad nodded, took the bottle and downed the foul liquid in one go. He grimaced, and began to look unwell almost immediately. Soren and Claudia helped their dad up and into the center of the ritual circle, where they left him kneeling on top of the Earth runes.

Claudia seriously hoped this would work, and that she hadn’t just done Dad more harm than good by poisoning him with a magical concoction.

Claudia positioned herself at the outer edge of the circle. She took in a calming breath, and began the ritual, her voice beginning to boom with whispers of more than one: “ _Aelp ym raeh, nus dna htrae eht fo stirips._ ”

 

***

 

_Wow_ , Soren thought to himself. _That sure is the most magic-ritual-looking magic ritual I’ve ever seen._

The moment his sister started chanting, it was like the whole world stood still and watched. Actually, come to think of it, the world wasn’t being still at all; the trees around the clearing were acting funny. They were sort of waving around and stuff.

Soren shrugged. _Magic_. Magic tended to do creepy stuff like that.

Soren knew he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for intruders, but he couldn’t help glancing behind himself every once in a while to see how the ritual was coming along.

Claudia was standing outside the ritual circle and chanting in a language Soren didn’t understand. Her eyes glowed purple, and the runes she had drawn on the rocky outcrop glowed, too. Their glowing ebbed and flowed, pulsing in tune with Claudia’s chanting.

It looked really cool, but was still kind of normal compared to what Dad’s runes were up to: just a moment ago, Viren had been kneeling in the middle of the circle on bare rock, but now there were all manner of plants growing and flourishing not just on top of the Earth runes, but also up and around Dad’s arms and legs.

It kind of looked like the spell Dad had used earlier to tackle some of the guards, except now it looked like he was trying to trap himself. Or maybe the plants were there to support him?

Dad’s eyes were closed, so Soren couldn’t see what they looked like, but he bet they would have glowed light green.

_Not all magic looks the same. Huh._

The sun had come up, which meant that Soren could see further into the woods than before. It probably also meant that other people - possibly people out looking for them - could also see further, now that Soren was thinking about it.

If someone did pass them by, it would have been super hard for them _not to_ notice that something weird was going on, what with all the chanting and glowing runes and plant life acting funny.

They weren’t exactly being subtle, were they? Was there anything Soren could do to hide them better?

“Um”, he started to say. “Can you guys keep it down a bit?”

Neither Dad nor Claudia reacted to his words in any way, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing Soren wanted to do was distract them during some crucial bit, even if it all looked the same to him.

Claudia had knelt down, but she never stopped weaving the spell. Dad looked like he was in bad shape, sweaty and panting heavily.

_I hope he knows what he’s doing. I hope they both do_ , Soren thought, but forced his attention back to the surrounding woods.

Soren realized he could make out Katolis Castle in the distance, looming above everything like a weirdly-shaped mountaintop. The silhouette reminded Soren that they hadn’t covered nearly as much ground last night as he had hoped they would.

On second thought, was that even a bad thing, if they were going to go back there anyways?

_What will ‘going back there’ even look like?_ Soren couldn’t help but wonder. He knew their Dad wasn’t evil, and Claudia knew that, but what if no one else would believe them?

Soren shook his head, and decided to focus on one thing at a time. _First get the evil elf out of Dad’s head, then worry about how awkward our return will be_.

 

***

 

Ever since Viren had drank the poison, he felt dizzy and nauseated. He was only peripherally aware of the world around him anymore; it was like there was a hazy, muffling wall between his conscious mind and everything else.

He thought he could feel Claudia’s magic enveloping him, keeping the poison from doing its worst, but he might also be imagining it. Everything felt a little surreal right now. Everything except the Earth around him.

Viren instinctually pulled at the Earth. He didn’t really know how he was doing it, but right now he felt very connected to his new primal. It was like Earth had come alive and was speaking to him, or maybe just through him, since Viren could no longer kid himself into believing that he mattered all that much in the grand scheme of things.

The rock beneath him was the only real thing in Viren’s small world. That, and the smell of evergreens and mosses and wilderness and _life_ floating all around him.

When the forest swayed in the wind, Viren swayed too. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Maybe this would work out. Maybe everything would go just as planned.

No sooner had he thought that when something new appeared in Viren’s view. A new presence that was less tangible than the ground and the trees, but familiar to Viren all the same.

“Aaravos”, he breathed, not needing to open his eyes to know Aaravos had returned. _This was_ not _good_.

“ _You’re not well. What happened to you?_ ” Aaravos asked somewhere close by. Viren kept his eyes closed and tried to ignore him.

“ _Viren?_ ” A hand touched Viren’s face, and his eyes snapped open at that.

“Don’t touch me”, Viren warned, and then gasped in pain. The poison was starting to really kick in.

Aaravos was standing before him, looking his usual self; no simmering waves of power this time.

Aaravos swayed, just like everything in Viren’s line of sight did, but as far he could tell, Aaravos did not look angry. The elf looked… well, if Viren didn’t know better, he would have said Aaravos looked sad and confused, but that didn’t seem likely.

Aaravos looked him up and down, and his face grew even sadder. “ _Did you do this to yourself?_ ”

Viren closed his eyes and tried to focus on the work at hand, pulling at the magic of the circle, and trying to force the centipede out of him.

Viren was shaking, and he felt like he was going to be sick. The poison was twisting his insides and spreading all around his body; it felt like something alive and malicious, crawling right beneath Viren’s skin, little by little consuming all of him.

“ _Why?_ ” Aaravos sounded heart-broken.

The elf’s saddened voice tugged at Viren’s heart, but he shook his head, and gritted his teeth. “I can’t be talking to you now.”

“ _Is that what this about?_ ” Aaravos asked angrily. “ _Because you want out, and you think this is the way?_ ”

Aaravos huffed frustratedly, and then he must have placed his hands on Viren’s shoulders, because there was a weight there now - barely registering through everything else, but definitely there. “ _Whatever it is that you think you’ll accomplish with this, it won’t work. Our connection runs deeper than this. We made a blood pact, you and I. We’re blood-bound_.”

“If you’re so sure this won’t work, why bother coming here to tell me that?” Viren asked. He tried to sound prickly, but he couldn’t keep his voice entirely steady.

Aaravos huffed exasperatedly. “ _I didn’t come here to talk you down from doing something_ monumentally stupid _like this. I didn’t realize I’d have to. I thought you were smarter than this_.”

Aaravos sighed, and went on more calmly: “ _Viren, listen to me: I came here because I have to talk to you. I made some mistakes. I know I hurt you. I manipulated you. I… I lied to you._

“ _Viren? I’m sorry_.”

Viren had never expected to hear those words from the proud elf’s lips. The apology came out rushed, and lacked Aaravos’ usual charm and depth; it was painfully clear the words were spoken by someone unaccustomed to making apologies.

Despite the lack of polish, or perhaps because of it, Viren believed Aaravos was telling the truth. That Aaravos was sorry. Viren bit his lip.

 

***

 

For a fleeting moment, Soren wished that a party of evil elves would happen upon them right now. Anything would be better than waiting around and being this worried while unable to help in any meaningful way. Fighting evil elven assassins was something Soren could do; something he would be good at, even. Fighting evil elves that only existed in their dad’s head? That was kind of out of his comfort zone.

Soren could hear something moving in the forest, and for an irrational moment he thought he had accidentally willed a troop of elven assassins into being.

“Who goes there?” Soren asked, sword in hand. He’d already spoken the words before he remembered with a cringe that he wasn’t a member of the Crownguard out on patrol today; he was one of the bad guys hiding in the forest. It probably wasn’t his line to be asking ‘who goes there’.

There was no reply. Maybe Soren had just imagined it? Was his tired mind just playing tricks on him?

Then again, if he’d heard something move in the forest despite Claudia’s chanting and the trees whooshing around him, whatever it was, it must have been pretty loud...

Soren tightened his grip on his sword and took a step backwards, so he would be closer to his sister and dad if something went wrong.

“Stop right there and drop your sword, soldier!”

Soren startled. The order was given by Gren’s voice, but somehow it didn’t sound like something Commander Gren would say.

And that was when General Amaya charged out of the bushes. She had her shield in one hand, but with the other she instructed her men to move forward.

...Because, yeah, Amaya wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t just her and Gren and Corvus either; the others were still some distance away, coming out of the woods, but it looked like she had brought half a dozen members of the Crownguard with her, and some of her own men to boot.

Soren grimaced. He looked back to Claudia and their dad, but neither of them looked like they’d even noticed they had company. Whatever was going on with the ritual, the mages were too immersed in it to pay attention to what was going on around them.

It was just Soren, then.

There was no way he could fight off so many guys alone, but he’d be damned if he went down without a fight…

“Surround him! Archers, secure the perimeter. And put a stop to whatever this is!” Gren interpreted Amaya’s orders to the soldiers.

Soren looked around himself and realized that “whatever this is” probably referred to the super obvious and flashy ritual his sister and dad were performing.

Soren couldn’t let them interfere! What if the evil elf-bug won if they messed up the ritual now?

Not sure what else to do, Soren dropped his sword and raised his hands above his head. “Okay guys, you got us. We surrender, but on one condition: it is really important that you let Dad and Claudia complete the banishing ritual before you take us away in handcuffs.”

It occurred to Soren a moment too late that he probably should have held onto his sword a bit longer if he was going to be making demands. Then again, he knew from first-hand experience what a formidable fighter General Amaya was, so maybe it wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway.

The soldiers were still closing in on them. Soren glanced down at the sword at his feet, but he shook his head and abandoned that idea for good. If he wanted to change the situation for the better, he would have to use words.

_Ugh, words. Here goes nothing._

“I swear this is not as bad as it looks”, Soren explained. “Just hear me out… Please?”

 

***

 

Amaya was ready to stop talking and get to smacking, but she signed one more thing at Soren, who appeared to be the only one of the fugitives fully present.

“ _Give me one good reason why I should trust you_."

“Because...” Soren looked back and forth between Amaya and Gren, looking like he was trying really hard to come up with the right words to say. Eventually he said in a blur: “Because our dad is not a bad person, not really, and he was going to go back to Katolis anyway, and give himself in, because he feels bad about putting the king in a bird, and he also feels really bad about those guards that he hurt, even though that wasn’t actually his fault - that was the elf’s doing - so first we have to get the evil elf-bug out of his head before it tries to kill him again.”

Amaya was skeptical at first, but on second thought, an explanation that bad pretty much had to be the truth. Lies were more polished and made more sense.

Did it matter though? What new things had she learned from Soren’s outburst, anyway?

First, Soren still had faith in his father - no surprise there, really.

Second, Viren had told Soren and Claudia that he put Harrow in a bird, and claimed to feel bad about it, and had said he wished to return to Katolis to make things right. Amaya wasn’t sure she bought it that Viren had had a sincere change of heart, but Soren seemed to believe it. And whether it was a genuine offer or not, it was exactly what Amaya needed Viren to do, so it was probably worth it to play along with it.

Third, Viren had apparently finally come to the same conclusion that Gren had reached days ago about Viren’s mysterious elf ally: that that bastard was not to be trusted.

Amaya looked to Gren, who started signing at her, unnecessarily reminding her about the elf in the mirror; he’d told her about the situation in his letters, and on their way here, Gren had told her that the existence of the elf had been as good as confirmed before Viren’s escape.

Amaya still remembered all that he had told her, so she waved him off, and turned to face Soren.

Unperturbed, Gren tapped her on the shoulder and signed on anyway. Amaya stopped to truly pay attention to him, trusting her lieutenant not to waste her time in the middle of combat. If Gren felt that what he had to say was important, then it probably was.

“ _General, I understand we cannot fully trust Viren’s judgement right now, but if the elf in the mirror has tried to kill Viren, and he finally figured out that he can’t trust the elf, then that is a fortunate turn of events. I strongly recommend that we allow them_ (Gren waved his hand towards Claudia and Viren) _to go through with this, whatever this is. We have no idea how to sever the magical connection that binds Viren to the elf, but they seem to have an idea, and we have to get rid of the connection before we can trust Viren anywhere near kings Ezran and Harrow._ ”

Amaya grit her teeth. She did not trust Viren as far she could throw him; perhaps she never had, but she certainly didn’t right now. However, as little as she liked it, Gren was right.

Amaya nodded at Gren once, and raised her fist to signal for her soldiers to stop their advancement and await further instructions. It was a basic signal used by all of Katolis’ military, so even the Crownguard should know it.

Which meant that Soren knew its meaning, too.

 

***

 

Soren’s heart was beating really fast. He still couldn’t believe that _using words_ had worked.

“What are they doing?” Gren asked in Amaya’s stead. Gren pointed at Claudia and Dad.

Soren was relieved beyond measure that they we’re going to hear him out. “Okay, so there is this evil elf guy in a mirror somewhere, and he can talk to our dad, although he is invisible, or I guess he isn’t really, but it’s complicated? The point is: Dad got really mad at the elf, and started shouting at him, and then the elf tried to kill Dad, and there was something _slithering inside our dad’s head,_ and it was the grossest thing…”

“Your sister and father, what are they doing right now?” Gren repeated.

“That? I’m glad you asked: Claudia came up with a banishing ritual to get the elf-bug out of Dad’s head. And guys, you have to let them finish the ritual, because they spent like all night planning it and drawing those runes, and also if we don’t do this like right now, the elf might try to kill our dad again before we have time to get rid of it.”

Amaya and Gren exchanged another look, and probably used some sign language magic to communicate all their thoughts between each other without using words that Soren could hear.

Soren wondered if he had made a good enough case for his dad. But what if General Amaya didn’t care that their dad might die? What if she even considered that a bonus?

“Also”, Soren said, a little out of breath but determined to keep talking for as long as he could, “the elf can sort of possess dad and hurt people that way, so we should definitely cut the connection between him and Dad at, like, first opportunity.”

Soren winced. ... _I shouldn’t have reminded them that Dad can be super dangerous._

“And also”, Soren felt compelled to keep talking, although even he could hear the desperation creeping into his voice, “if you still want to stop the ritual, you have to go through _me_ , because I’m not going to let you hurt them.”

Amaya’s expression softened a fraction, and she started signing something, still using just the one hand that wasn’t holding a shield.

Gren turned to look at Soren, and he actually smiled at him. “It’s okay, soldier. We believe you.”

Soren let out a huge sigh of relief. He might have hugged Gren right then and there if the other man had been within arm’s reach.

“Soldiers, get in position around the mages, but don’t interfere with what they’re doing”, Gren passed on Amaya’s orders, and then turned towards Soren again: “And you, tell us everything you know about this ‘elf-bug’.”

 

***

 

“ _If you still want to get to know Aaravos, the real Aaravos, I promise I will answer all your questions, and I will answer them honestly. Well, as honestly as I am able. No more excuses or evasions. I owe you that much_ ”, Aaravos offered.

Aaravos’ hand was on Viren’s cheek, guiding Viren to open his eyes and look Aaravos in the eye. “ _I know you are disappointed in me, and you are not wrong to be, but we can still work this out._ ”

“You’re... you’re only saying that... because you don’t want to be left alone”, Viren managed to stutter through the pain and nausea.

Viren had never been particularly introspective, and he was even worse at taking other people’s feelings into consideration. He and Aaravos had spent a lot of time together, stuck in their respective prisons, and it still only now occurred to him how lonely it must have been for Aaravos to spend a thousand years with no one to keep him company.

Aaravos sighed. “ _I will be lonely without you, it’s true, but that’s not the reason why I am here now, asking you not to leave me. The real reason is that… that I care about you. And not just because I have no one else to turn to. That may have been the case at the start, but now I know_ you _, Viren, and the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I care about you._

“ _I want you to stay, because I enjoy your company. Because I want to know how you’re doing, and watch you get better. Please don’t take that from me_.”

Viren’s world was shaking. The only thing he was able to concentrate on were Aaravos’ pleading words and his golden eyes, full of emotions Viren couldn’t begin to decipher under the circumstances.

“ _I won’t do anything stupid again. No more unrequested trips to the mind-library. No more connecting our souls. Whenever you want to be left alone, I’ll leave you alone. Just don’t do_ this _. Let me stay with you. Please_.”

Aaravos’ suggestions sounded great, but then again, Aaravos’ suggestions always sounded great. He was very good at making promises.

“You know”, Viren said, forcing his words to be clear despite the poison ravaging his insides and burning his throat, “if you treated people as something more than tools to be used, or as pieces in your grand game of chess, maybe everyone wouldn’t leave you.”

Viren knew he was playing with his life now, bullying the dragon like this, but a surprisingly large part of him didn’t care. Or maybe he believed that whatever pain Aaravos would bring down on him, Viren had it coming.

Aaravos’ mouth tightened into a hard line, but he didn’t scream at Viren.

Angrily, Viren breathed out, and said nothing more. Possibly he couldn’t form coherent words anymore, but he didn’t have to. Aaravos could read him well enough to know that the compromise he had come to offer had been rejected.

_Too little, far too late._

Aaravos lifted Viren’s head to meet his gaze. A bittersweet smile played on his lips. “ _I’m sorry, Viren._ ”

Then, just like that, the elf faded from sight. Viren blinked his eyes and tried to feel if Aaravos had truly left, or if he was still… But it was almost impossible to focus enough to...

“Gah!”

Viren started to cough violently. He could feel something move inside him. Something _physical_. It felt more uncomfortable than actually painful, but he was too disgusted to care about the semantics of it.

The moment the centipede started to crawl its way out of his ear, it was like someone had turned the sound back on. Although Viren still couldn’t see the world as anything more than a blur, at least he could hear it.

 

***

 

“...Dad told us it crawled into his ear, so he was probably _awake_ when it happened, which is actually even more...”

Viren started to convulse in the ritual circle. Amaya lifted her hand to motion for Soren to stop talking.

Amaya stepped forward to better see what was going on.

After a few moments of violent coughing, Viren’s body went limp, and he collapsed on top of the tangle of mosses and wines that surrounded the mage.

That was when Amaya saw it. The ‘elf-bug’, as Soren had so aptly described it, was one mean-looking centipede. It crawled out of Viren’s left ear, and started skittering towards their general direction.

Before Amaya had time to decide what to do about it, Soren moved past her and into the ritual circle, and stepped on the creature, saying “ew ew ew” all the way.

 

***

 

Viren was absently aware that he’d fallen down at some point, but it still surprised him when he found his head on something soft. Instead of bare rock, he rested on something mushy and comfortable.

Viren tried to lift his hand to his head to make sure the creature had truly left, and wasn’t still lingering on his earlobe or something like that, but his limbs didn’t seem to respond to his commands anymore.

“Ew ew ew!”

Viren forced his eyes open and right before him was the disgusting centipede. And then, a boot.

With a bit of delay, Viren realized his son had stepped on the centipede, and although it had made a loud squishy, crushing sound on the first time, Soren stomped on it a few more times for good measure.

“Soren!” yelled Claudia’s voice from somewhere nearby. “We might have needed that later when we… Hey, when did they all get here?”

Viren wondered briefly who “they all” were; he still had a hard time focusing his eyes on anything far away. But he knew enough: his children were here, and they were arguing amongst themselves, so everything was pretty much back to normal. What more could he ask for?

Whatever Viren’s head was resting against was so comfortable. He could probably fall asleep right here...

Viren’s mind went completely blank.

 

***

 

“ _You there! Stay where you are!_ ” Amaya ordered Claudia, who appeared to have finally snapped out of her trance.

Amaya commanded two of the soldiers to apprehend Claudia, and although she looked like she wanted to put up a fight, the young mage was too confused and tired to get up. In no time, her men were holding the girl by her arms, and tied her hands behind her back.

Amaya moved her attention back to Soren and Viren. The magical runes no longer glowed, so Amaya braved her way over them.

Viren seemed to have lost consciousness, but Amaya wanted to make sure. He still had a pulse: he was just out cold. Amaya turned to Soren, and signed: “ _He’ll be fine. Lift your boot: let’s see the bug_.”

Gren must have been doing his job, because Soren sobered and nodded, and then lifted his booted leg.

Amaya snatched the creature - well, its remains, because it was quite squashed - in her gloved hand.

Gren moved to her line of sight and told Amaya that Claudia was telling them to hold on to the little monster; that she might yet learn something about their enemy by studying it.

Amaya considered it in her hand. The thing was dead; there seemed little harm in keeping it, but Amaya did not like the idea of Claudia poking around with it regardless.

Well, she could hold onto its remains for now and still later make sure they were properly disposed of. Amaya waved some soldiers over, handed the centipede’s remains to them, and ordered them to keep it safe. The soldier did as he was ordered, and stored the creature in a napkin, and the napkin in a pouch on his belt.

Amaya turned to Soren, and told him that they were all under arrest and wanted for questioning, and that she was taking them to Katolis.

Soren just kind of nodded; he didn't look surprised, not did her put up a fight when more soldiers came to tie his hands. Amaya ordered the soldiers to tie Viren up as well, but before they could get to his hands, they had to carefully hack to pieces the wines that were still holding Viren in place.

Amaya turned to see what Claudia was up to, and to her surprise, she saw that Corvus had moved over to Claudia’s side and was talking to her. From what Amaya was able to read from his lips, Corvus was recapping to Claudia what had happened.

Amaya took a final look around. The markings had burned themselves into the surface of the rock, but they were no longer emitting light. The bug had been dealt with. All fugitives had been arrested.

_Good_. She nodded to herself. With little luck, even the elf was dealt with for now, although Amaya wasn’t going to count on it.

She ordered her troops to prepare to head back to Katolis Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest in pieces, Aarapod. We hardly knew thee. Joking aside, this will not be the last we see of Aaravos in this fic.
> 
> On a different but related note, I have an announcement to make: I have a set ending point in mind for this fic, but I’ve also come to the conclusion that there are other stories I wish to tell in this world and with this cast of characters, and to that end I am planning to write a sequel for this fic.
> 
> I have a name, a summary, and an outline of the plot ready, but I won’t reveal more about those yet, so I don’t spoil what’s still to come in this fic.


	17. Explanations

As soon as they reached Katolis Castle, General Amaya saw to it that Viren - who still hadn’t regained consciousness - was sent to the healing rooms. To go with him, Amaya ordered as many guards as could be fitted into the faculties without making it effectively impossible for the healer to move around in them.

They’d tied Viren’s hands especially carefully this time, as the earlier shackles had proven inadequate in preventing casting and, based on what they’d managed to learn from Claudia and Soren on their way back to the castle, Viren may still retain some of his new magical powers even without the elf inside his head.

They’d let Viren escape once from right under their noses; Amaya was not about to let that happen again under her watch.

Amaya personally saw to it that Claudia and Soren were apprehended securely and moved to holding cells to await further questioning, accompanied by their fair share of guards. At this point, Viren’s children had a history of breaking the rules in creative ways that nearly rivaled their father’s, and Amaya would not let any of them play her for a fool. The general had more than enough on her plate right now without having to look over her shoulder, worrying about treacherous mages.

Despite the trek back and all the arrangements Amaya had needed to oversee upon their return, it wasn’t even noon by the time she was ready to go report to her superiors. She headed straight for the Throne Room, Gren by her side. Corvus had gone there before them to preliminarily fill their king in on the mission’s success.

Moments before opening the Throne Room doors, Amaya took in a deep, fortifying breath. A gut feeling told her that taking on Viren, Claudia, and Soren - especially in the state of disarray they had managed to find them in - had been the lesser of two battles she needed to wage this morning. A more daunting fight was the one she was about to walk into now.

 _Harrow can be such a stubborn fool sometimes_ , Amaya knew from years of experience. Based on their earlier argument, it did not seem like spending time in a bird had helped Harrow get his head out of the clouds one bit.

Amaya pushed the doors open, marched in to face King Harrow and Prince Ezran, and knelt before the throne.

“We’re so happy that everything went alright with finding Viren and bringing him in”, Ezran beamed, and Amaya smiled at her nephew. Ezran was a wonderful kid, and she really ought to try and find a way to spend more time with him, despite her many duties at the Breach.

However, it wasn’t Ezran she had come to have a word with right now, but her brother-in-law. Amaya and Harrow’s eyes met. The bird nodded at her and started squawking at Ezran. Ezran’s expression somewhat sobered as he listened to his father, and then interpreted his words: “Right. Aunt Amaya, we - me and Dad - really need to talk to you about something.”

Amaya nodded, and asked: “ _Here or in the back room?_ ”

“Back room”, Ezran interpreted, or maybe they had decided it beforehand. It was a little hard to know when Ezran was interpreting for Harrow or not, since the language the two shared seemed more magic than anything else.

Either way, Amaya was not surprised to learn that Harrow wanted to continue their earlier debate in private. Amaya nodded and got up, and she and Gren followed the King, Ezran, Corvus and Opeli into the back room.

Amaya tried to read Ezran and Opeli’s faces to give herself an idea on what she might be walking into. Opeli looked calm, but also a little upset under her poised demeanor; Ezran was chewing on his lower lip worriedly.

Amaya tried to brace herself for anything, but she failed at that; what Ezran said next caught her completely off guard.

“Aunt Amaya, we talked some stuff over with Dad while you were out looking for Viren, Claudia, and Soren, and we decided that I am going to continue being king.”

It took Amaya good few seconds to reign in her surprise, and close her mouth, which had been left hanging wide open.

 _“What on earth is Harrow thinking?”_ She turned to glare at her king and asked as much, although from the corner of her eye she could tell Gren had slightly amended her tone and simply asked: “And why is that, Harrow?”

Harrow looked unwavering, so far as Amaya could tell when looking at a bird, and began immediately to tell Ezran something.

“Although Dad didn’t want to be put in Pip’s body, it’s still wrong”, Ezran explained. “If he got to keep on being king, it would be bad, because then maybe one day some less nice king of Katolis might do the same to try to live and rule forever.”

Amaya couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Or actually she could. More than a little furiously, she replied to Harrow: “ _I see. And because of this possible future problem, this hypothetical worst case scenario that will likely never come to be, it is perfectly justified for you to leave your ten-year-old son to rule by himself_.”

Amaya loved Ezran dearly. She would fight - and had fought - for Ezran’s right to the throne. That said, her nephew was a kid, and had no experience when it came to running a country, nevermind running a war. If Katolis was given the option to choose between the two, what the kingdom needed right now, during this time of crisis, was King Harrow, not King Ezran; of this she was certain.

Amaya had thought Harrow was able to see that, too, but apparently not.

“Dad says he’s given this a lot of thought, and that his word is final”, Ezran said, visibly uncomfortable to have to order his aunt around like this.

Once upon a time, Harrow’s word might have been enough; Amaya may have quietly acquiesced to her King’s wisdom, or if not to his wisdom, at least to his right to make such a decision without consulting others. She was and always had been a loyal citizen, soldier and later a general of Katolis, and Harrow had been her king. The king’s word was final, and that was that.

But this time was different.

This time what was being decided wasn’t just their latest war strategy. This wasn’t just about the line of succession, or even about what Katolis needed. This decision had far more _personal_ implications.

What Harrow decided now would greatly affect the safety of Ezran, and Ezran was _her nephew_ , whom she’d sworn on her sister’s grave to keep from harm.

Amaya did not see the wisdom in Harrow’s decision, but if it had been just about matters of state, she would have followed his lead. However, her nephew’s wellbeing was a different story; that was something Amaya was not willing to gamble with if it could at all be helped, and the way she was looking at it now, it could.

“He also says that I won’t have to do this alone”, Ezran continued, smiled, and added, clearly speaking more for himself now: “Dad promised to stay by my side and help me and guide me through it all, so it’ll be alright.”

Ezran had such innocence about him that Amaya couldn’t help but smile fondly at him for a moment. She would have preferred to dismiss him from the room now, and spare Ezran from hearing what needed to be said, but the circumstances they found themselves in necessitated that Ezran stayed.

So instead Amaya turned to regard Harrow seriously, considered her words, and began signing: “ _Harrow, spare me whatever sermon you’ve prepared. I’m not interested in hypotheticals or abstract notions of morality right now. What I am interested in are the hard realities we are faced with: an attack from Xadia could happen any day, and when it does, Katolis will need an experienced ruler sitting on the throne._ ”

Harrow flapped his wings in anger and screeched something at Amaya. She had expected as much and kept her cool, instead turning her head slightly to Ezran to indicate she was waiting for a translation.

“Um, Aunt Amaya?” Ezran hesitated. Amaya nodded at Ezran encouragingly, and signed at him to say whatever his father had said.

Ezran took in a deep breath. “Dad says that he has to think about the bigger picture, and that he’s given this a lot more thought than you have, and that the situation isn’t as black and white as you make it sound like. And, um, he also says you should mind your tone when addressing your superiors.”

Amaya’s temper flared at that.

“ _So you are my superior, then? Here I thought you just said you’ve abdicated that power to your son_ ”, Amaya signed with cold, calm anger, and waited for Harrow to reply.

Amaya was peripherally aware that people around them were gasping with affront; her tone was in fact no way to be talking to her king, but Amaya kept her gaze locked with Harrow’s, daring him to call her out on it again.

 _You don’t want the throne?_ Fine _. But then don’t expect to be treated like you’re still sitting on it, either._

To Amaya’s surprise, it wasn’t Harrow who spoke next, but Ezran: “Aunt Amaya?”

Amaya turned to regard her nephew.

“I know I don’t have the experience that my dad does; I know that. But Dad is right: it would be unfair for anyone to rule forever, no matter how good a ruler they are.”

Amaya looked at him in surprise. Ezran went on, looking years older than his actual age: “I know you don’t like it - a lot of people probably won’t like it - but this is what we’ve decided. I am king now, and Dad is my advisor.”

Amaya blinked. Twice.

Ezran... was king now. On a level, she had already accepted that once, but the moment she’d read from Gren’s letter that Harrow was still alive, she’d assumed…

But, actually, she shouldn’t have. It wasn’t her place to make that assumption.

Although Amaya still did not approve of Harrow’s decision to leave his son to shoulder all the responsibilities and threats that came with being king, it was not her place to voice her disagreement, nor was it her decision to make.

Amaya took in a deep breath and bowed her head to her new king. “ _My apologies, Your Majesty_ . _I spoke out of turn_.”

Ezran winced, looking undecided between accepting her apology and asking her not to call him that. Eventually he just nodded at Amaya.

“ _With your permission, Your Majesty_ ”, Amaya began anew, “ _there are still the logistics of the body swap to discuss between myself and.. Advisor Harrow_.”

It was beyond bizarre to address Harrow by such a title, but it seemed they’d all just have to get used to it now.

Harrow began to squawk at King Ezran, but Ezran raised his hand to indicate he wanted to speak. “I know. But Dad has said that he doesn’t want to do that.”

Amaya turned to Harrow: “ _Harrow, your sons still need you. Both of them_.”

Harrow looked like he was about to bounce at Amaya at that, probably talons first, but somehow he managed refrain and stick to angry words instead. Amaya hardly needed Ezran’s interpreting to know Harrow had just told her that he _knew_ full well his sons still needed him and that he _was_ going to be there for them.

To Amaya, that wasn’t good enough. “ _Do you remember how many assassins you faced, in the first six months after you assumed the throne?_ ”

Harrow went quiet at that, and Amaya seized the moment to add: “ _Because I do. Granted, the first year is the hardest, with many power hungry nobles and disgruntled courtiers looking to test the strength of the new ruler, and seize power for themselves if they can. Even so, are you really going to leave your son to face all of those threats alone? And don’t give me any crap about staying by his side to shield him from harm: how on earth do you plan to do that as a bird? If you plan on physically throwing yourself on an assassin’s blade, you will only be able to pull that trick off once, if even that. Ezran needs_ people _by his side to guard him at all times; people who can wield a sword and a shield, if it comes to it_.”

As Amaya spoke, she looked to Gren to make sure his lieutenant didn’t change a word of what she’d said or how she’d said it. He could probably feel the burning of her gaze on him, and understood what was wanted of him: Gren stayed true to her intentions in his interpretation.

Satisfied, Amaya turned to regard Harrow. She knew she wasn’t playing fair, blaming Harrow for all potential threats to his son’s life, but she didn’t care. This _was_ about her nephew’s life. She didn’t have to be fair.

Amaya was genuinely worried for Ezran. She wished she could have come to Katolis as soon as her nephew had been crowned, but it had been impossible at the time; the situation at the border had taken far too many alarming turns for her to leave it to her underlings just then.

“ _One of us needs to be by the king’s side at all times, and if you insist on staying in a bird, it has to be me, even though I am desperately needed at the Breach_ ”, Amaya finished, and she meant it. She would not leave Ezran’s security in the hands of common soldiers; especially not now when less than mere weeks ago Katolis’ most powerful and dangerous courtier had turned on them and tried to seize the throne for himself.

That Lord Viren was now under lock and key wasn’t good enough a reassurance for Amaya to trust that they’d not hear from him again, and even if they had managed to neutralize one threat, there were still untold other potential enemies Ezran would need to be protected against.

“You probably won’t be needed at the Breach for much longer, Aunt Amaya”, Ezran spoke up.

“ _What do you mean?_ ” Amaya asked him, genuinely confused. Was Ezran planning to reassign her? What job could be more important?

“The thing is, we are going to pull out of the war”, Ezran said. Amaya may have thought he was joking, if not for how serious Ezran looked.

What did he mean by _pulling out of the war_? That was just _nonsense_. What did it mean, or could even mean, in practice?

She needed to set the record straight about the realities of the war at first opportunity, and now seemed as good a moment as any, even if it would veer them off-topic regarding the necessity of Harrow’s body-swap.

“ _King Ezran: I’ve been meaning to give you my report on the situation at the front, but I haven’t had the opportunity. To put it shortly, Sunfire Elves are gathering their forces on the Xadian side of the Breach. We don’t have their exact numbers, because last week our secret keep was discovered and overrun by elves. Losing the keep has greatly complicated our ability to perform reconnaissance, but everything we do know indicates we should expect an invasion force to try to break into Katolis at some point in the near-future_.”

Ezran looked shocked. “Why would the Sunfire Elves want to come here?”

“ _Because they are angry and because they can_ ”, Amaya said seriously. “ _There is no longer a King of Dragons guarding the border, which means that we are freer to venture into Xadia, but so are the elves freer to make their way over the border to us_.”

Ezran looked troubled, and Amaya gave him a moment to let the news sink in.

“How can you be sure the Sunfire Elves are planning to come here? Maybe they’re just adding security to their side of the border, and it just looks to us like an invasion force?” Ezran asked.

Amaya took in a breath and considered how to best explain all of this to a child. Her king, but a child nonetheless. “ _King Ezran, there have been altercations at the Breach for as long as there has been a Breach. We try to find a way to Xadia, and they stop us; they try to send spies and assassins over to our side, and we stop them. Now we’ve once again reached a point of contention where nothing but a clash of armies will satisfy the political will on both sides_.”

“But we have no will to fight them; not anymore!” Ezran disagreed. “Can’t we just, I don’t know, _apologize_ to them and tell them that we don’t want the war to go on anymore?”

Amaya deadpanned at her king, but the question had been asked in earnest, which meant that it was her duty to try and answer it. “ _We do not have a line of communication with the enemy forces, and even if we did, we have no guarantees that the elves would even hear us out, let alone trust in our intentions_.”

Ezran perked up at that. “So it is all a big miscommunication then”, he said, more so to himself than anyone else in the room.

Amaya had an irresistible urge to bang her head against her shield. Instead she looked around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes one by one, silently asking them why no one had yet disillusioned their king from these types of fantasies.

Ezran may be a child, but he was surrounded by grown men and women, all of whom should know better. The High Council should have made it their first priority to educate their new king in matters such as this.

Harrow had insisted his sons be allowed to have a proper childhood, and Amaya couldn’t fault him for that, so Ezran had had a sheltered upbringing until now. However, that had been acceptable when they thought they still had a lot of time to teach the prince about the war and about his responsibilities as a king before he would assume the throne. Right now they no longer had the luxury of time on their side.

Gren tapped Amaya on the shoulder and guided her attention to High Priestess Opeli, who’d began to speak: “... Ezran, with all due respect. Our conflict with the elves is more than a mere miscommunication. We have been at war with them for generations, and countless lives have been lost in the fight against them.”

Ezran frowned. “Yeah, I know that. I also know that countless Xadians have also lost their lives fighting us, and that fighting is awful. But we can’t always answer fire with fire. The only way we can put an end to the fighting and suffering is by building a lasting peace with the people of Xadia.”

Opeli bowed her head, seeming to accept her king’s words at face value.

Amaya had just about had it, but she tried to keep her tone civil. “ _Ezran. King Ezran. The elves are at the border as we speak, preparing to make some kind of move against us. That is where we are at right now, and no amount of wishing it were otherwise will change that reality. We may not want to continue the war, but we play with the hand we are dealt with, not with the one we’d like to have_.

“ _We must prepare for the worst, and fortify our presence at the Breach at all costs_.”

Ezran turned to stare at Amaya. He looked exhausted, heart-broken, perhaps even a little betrayed, but he said nothing. Harrow, who’d been quiet for a while, turned now to his son to tell him something, and Ezran stopped to listen.

Amaya hated how she had been made to play the role of the villain in this conversation, but she’d be damned if she didn’t make it crystal clear to her king that war was imminent. She owed that much not just to Ezran, but to the men and women serving under her at the border.

Since when had Ezran grown so concerned for the wellbeing of the Xadian soldiers, anyway? She had half a mind to remind Ezran that the soldiers of Katolis trusted their king to have _their_ best interest at heart - not that of their enemies - but she kept that thought to herself for now.

Ezran was new to all of this; that had to be it. They were all tired and emotions ran high, but she needed to get a grip on herself before she’d say something she’d regret.

Eventually, Ezran spoke: “Thank you to everyone for voicing your views. I think… I need to think on all of this.”

Amaya let out a small sigh of relief, smiled at Ezran, and signed: “ _Of course, Your Majesty_.”

Amaya turned to meet Harrow’s gaze. She wanted to silently convey to Harrow that she was not done arguing about getting Harrow out of a bird and into a proper body. Harrow seemed to know what was on her mind.

 _Good_. They’d pick up that debate as soon as a better moment presented itself.

“Alright. Now that that’s over with, I guess we should go talk to Claudia and Soren, then?” Ezran suggested, already looking more like his usual self.

Amaya nodded back at him. They should question Viren’s children as soon as possible. Amaya wouldn’t rest easy before they’d gotten some proper answers out of those two regarding the increasingly convoluted mess that was Lord Viren. If there was someone who knew of all the mad plans Viren had had time to put into motion before being stopped, that someone would be Claudia; the mage’s daughter, apprentice and right hand woman.

 

***

 

“Claudia? Claudia wake up.”

Claudia woke up with a start.

“It’s okay, sis”, Soren said from some distance away. “Just me.”

Claudia looked around herself. She was still in the small holding cell where Amaya’s men had left her in, sitting on a wooden bench, her hands uncomfortably tied behind her back and to the wall. Soren was sitting in a cell of his own across the corridor, but they could make eye contact through their respective sets of cellbars.

 _I fell asleep?_ She must have, although it seemed almost impossible she could have dozed off under the circumstances.

“How long was I out?”

Soren smiled a bit sheepishly: “Like, maybe an hour?”

Claudia shot her brother a dirty look, but he defended himself, saying: “C’mon, you could really use the rest.”

A large yawn escaped from her lips, and Claudia relented, nodding at her brother. No small part of her wanted to go right back to sleep, and to keep on sleeping for a better part of the week.

“I thought you should wake up now, because it sounds like someone’s coming in”, Soren added, and nodded his head towards the general direction of the door to their prison section.

Now that she was paying attention to it, Claudia could hear it too. Muffled sounds. People talking on the other side of the wooden door that led to the corridor with the holding cells.

She tried to listen carefully, but wasn’t able to make out individual voices.

There were guards standing just outside her cell, one on each side of the barred wall. Her brother’s cell was also guarded by a set of soldiers, and there could be many more on the corridor that Claudia wasn’t able to see from her current vantage point.

The guards would hear everything they said to each other, but she decided it didn’t matter that they were being listened in, and asked Soren: “Any word from Dad?”

Soren shook his head, looking worried.

Claudia bit her lower lip and sighed. Most likely Dad was fine. Most likely, but her mind would have been much more at ease if their captors had allowed her to perform a purifying spell to remove the rest of the poison from him.

There had been no reasoning with General Amaya; she had been adamant about keeping Claudia’s hands tied and far away from her component satchel during the whole walk back to Katolis.

Claudia rested her head against the back wall of her cell, looking up at the ceiling, but not really seeing it; her thoughts were running wild.

There was a loud click at the door, followed by sounds of clothes shuffling and armor clanking as people walked in.

Into Claudia’s line of sight walked… “Ezran!”

Ezran turned to look at Claudia, and smiled a little at her.

Claudia smiled right back. Despite the dire circumstances, she was genuinely happy to see that Ezran was alright, and back home where he belonged.

“What’s up, Ez”, Soren quipped, though somewhat less enthusiastically than Claudia had.

Claudia looked at the people Ezran had arrived with, and immediately noticed the one person who was missing: “Ezran, where’s Callum? How is he?”

At the same time, her brother asked, sounding more than a little bewildered: “Is that King Harrow?”

Harrow’s pet bird was sitting on Ezran’s shoulder, and the bird was now King Harrow. How weird was that?

“We’re the ones asking the questions”, Commander Gren said in a harsh tone, clearly speaking for General Amaya.

However, Ezran waved his hand and turned to speak to Claudia. “Callum’s fine; at least he was fine, last I saw him. He and Rayla and Zym went to Xadia, but I had to come back home to take my place on the throne.”

Claudia blinked. “Callum isn’t here?” It was kind of stupid of her to ask; Ezran had just said as much, but it was just so surprising. The princes were such a package deal that Claudia hadn’t even considered that they’d gone their separate ways.

If Callum had gone to Xadia, who knew what kind of trouble he might be in by now? Claudia hadn’t been to Xadia in person, not yet anyway, but in her father’s stories it sounded like a wonderful but also incredibly dangerous place.

At least Callum had been alright last Ezran had seen him, which meant that the backlash of casting magic unprepared hadn’t hit Callum that hard, after all. That was something to be grateful for; Claudia would never have forgiven herself if she’d inadvertently pushed Callum to hurt himself through magic.

“Oh man! Are you saying that all we needed to do to get you guys to come home was to tell the truth: that your dad died?” Soren complained, and then remembered who all were present and sat a little straighter. “I mean, sort of died. Or, you know, so we thought.”

Amaya tapped Ezran on the shoulder, and signed something at him, Gren interpreting: “Your Majesty, we must focus. Remember what we came here to do.”

Claudia’s gaze flew to the crown resting on Ezran’s head - well, more like on his hair. Somehow, she had completely overlooked it earlier, but it seemed that what her brother had learned during their earlier visit to Katolis Castle had been true: Ezran had been crowned king.

They should probably call him _King Ezran_ from now on, or _your majesty_. Now _that_ was weird.

“I know we’re the ones being questioned, but can I just ask one more thing?” Soren asked a little hesitantly. “How’s our dad? Is he feeling any better now that the elf-bug is gone?”

Claudia turned to look at Ezran, too. Ezran, in turn, looked to General Amaya, and asked: “Is Viren alright?”

Amaya looked like she wanted to smash something, but took in a deep breath instead, and forced a neutral expression on her face before answering. “Last I checked, Your Majesty, his condition was unchanged”, Gren said out loud what Amaya had signed.

Ezran nodded and smiled apologetically at Soren.

Amaya tapped Ezran on the shoulder again, and asked: “King Ezran, with your permission, may I take charge of questioning the prisoners?”

Ezran’s face crumbled and he looked thoughtful, but eventually, he nodded at his aunt.

Amaya walked so that she had an even clearer line of sight to Claudia and her brother, though especially to Claudia, she vaguely realized, and asked them both through Gren’s interpreting: “Tell us, in your own words, everything that happened the night King Harrow was thought to have been assassinated.”

“What?” Soren asked. “But that was like, _weeks_ ago. How are we supposed to remember _everything_?”

Amaya looked like she was counting to ten in her head before clarifying: “Tell us everything Lord Viren did that night, to your best knowledge.”

Claudia and Soren exchanged a look. What all should they say? Claudia sighed and decided she should be the one to answer that: she’d spent more time with their dad that night than Soren had.

“As you guys probably already know”, Claudia began, “Dad and I came up with this brilliant plan to save the king’s…”

Claudia belatedly remembered that King Harrow was right here, staring her down with his beady little bird-eyes, and her sentence just kind of trailed off once she did.

“Yes?” Amaya pestered.

Claudia swallowed and carried on: “Well, we wanted to help the king, so we came up with a magical solution to the problem. I came up with it, to be precise. Dad went to tell the king about our plan, but he said ‘no’.”

“The plan being that you wanted to put King Harrow’s soul in a different body?” Amaya asked.

“Yeah”, Claudia agreed. “That was the plan, but King Harrow had refused, so we had to think of something else. Dad was… well, he was really upset about that, and he started talking about how good friends he and Harrow were and how far they went back… I think it might have started with the portrait? Because you guys look so happy in the official portrayed together? I don’t remember exactly. The point is that Dad got all resigned, and spoke about how he ‘needed to be the kind of man King Harrow had once believed him to be’, or something on those lines, and then he said there was still one more thing he could do.”

Claudia took a pause to gather her thoughts, and continued: “And then he, you know, said _goodbye_ to me, although I didn’t really realize at the time just how much he meant it; I only later found out that he’d been meaning to trade places with King Harrow himself; that that had been his plan.”

“What?” Ezran asked. “What do you mean trade places with my dad?”

Claudia looked to Ezran and didn’t really know what to say. “The assassins were coming any minute; I guess Dad thought Harrow would be more okay with the body-swap plan if it happened between close friends. I don’t know the details”, Claudia explained, and then just kind of shrugged, adding: “But I would have tried to stop him if I realized that was what he was up to.”

Claudia took in a deep breath and tried to focus: “I had no idea at the time what Dad’s plan was, and I also had no idea later that Dad had ended up putting King Harrow in a bird instead.”

Claudia turned to look the bird in the eye, and was again momentarily lost for words.

It was Soren who then spoke up: “Dad felt _really_ bad about it, though. He told us as much when we were out in the woods last night. Dad said he was sorry for what he did and he wanted to go back to make things right.”

“That’s right”, Claudia agreed. “Dad was really sorry, and he insisted that he had to go back to Katolis at the first opportunity, but we agreed that we had to sever his connection to Aaravos first.”

“When did you two find out about what your father had done to King Harrow?” Amaya asked.

Claudia and Soren looked to one another once again, and then Soren replied: “Um, like, we heard a rumor about it while we were hiding in the castle yesterday, but we kind of thought it was just crazy talk.”

“Actually”, Claudia felt compelled to correct, “you thought it was crazy talk; I figured out what Dad must have done, but I didn’t have time to think it through or explain it to you.”

“But he didn’t tell you?” Amaya asked, looking at both of Claudia and her brother with suspicion.

“Well _no_ ”, Claudia answered perhaps a little more angrily than she had any right to be.

“Nope”, Soren agreed in earnest. “Not a clue. I mean, putting someone’s soul in a different body? That’s just _insane_.”

Amaya seemed to consider their words, before asking: “And what all else has your father done since that night? What were his plans, and which of those plans has he had time to act upon?”

Claudia felt she should be the one to answer that: “Apparently, Dad did a lot of stuff. We probably don’t even know half of it, since we’ve been out looking for Ezran and Callum for almost a couple of weeks now. For example, we had no idea he’d cracked the secrets of the magic mirror while we were away.”

“Tell us about the things you do know about”, Amaya commanded.

The things they did know about? Well, it wasn’t exactly a short list, either.

“Dad wanted to hold the king’s funeral right away, because the kingdom was in a bit of chaos and he wanted to speed things up and get everything back in order and running smoothly. And he said that the king had asked him to act as a regent, though, come to think of it, that probably isn’t true, considering the way Dad and Harrow parted ways...”

“But then you rode in to tell us that Callum and Ezran hadn’t died in the assassination”, Soren picked up the story, talking to Amaya. “So that was great, even though Dad was pretty angry that the coronation got postponed.”

Claudia nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. Then Dad asked us to go find the princes and to bring them home. And the dragon egg, too.”

“The dragon egg?” Amaya asked.

“The Dragon Prince’s egg”, Claudia clarified. “After the battle against Thunder, Dad managed to get his hands on the egg, and brought it home to Katolis in one piece. He was afraid the elves would retaliate against us by using it as a weapon - dragon eggs have some pretty earth-shattering properties when used as spell components, after all - and so he decided the best thing to do was to hide the egg and let everyone think it had been destroyed.”

The bird on Ezran’s shoulder started to squawk at Claudia’s words, and she fell silent. Eventually, Ezran asked: “Dad wants to know why neither of you told him that the Dragon Prince’s egg had been salvaged and brought to Katolis?”

Claudia’s cheeks blushed. She didn’t really know how to answer that, but everyone was looking at her, so she had to say something: “We… Dad just said that for now, we should keep it a secret. He didn’t really explain it, but I just figured he was waiting for a right time to tell the king about it.”

“What else?” Amaya asked.

Claudia shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said: we weren’t here. We were out looking for Callum and Ezran and the egg.”

Commander Gren coughed meaningfully at that.

“...Right”, Claudia realized. “Right, we did help Dad imprison Commander Gren before we left. But that was… I mean Dad said it was necessary; that we were the right people to find the princes and that Gren would have only gotten in the way if he’d been allowed to lead the search.”

Claudia smiled apologetically at Gren.

“And at no point did either of you consider that maybe you shouldn’t be following your father’s orders?” Amaya asked via Gren’s interpreting.

“But… he’s _our dad_ ”, Soren said. “He’s like super smart and super dedicated to Katolis, and he usually knows best. Even before Harrow’s sort-of-death, Dad was always the guy who knew what all needed doing and when and how.”

Claudia nodded. That was their dad. It hadn’t even crossed Claudia’s mind to question their dad’s orders, and she didn’t really know how to put that feeling of certainty into words any better than Soren just had.

In hindsight, they probably should have stopped to think that maybe Dad wasn’t quite acting himself, but at the time, Claudia hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Well, anything other than that moment when Dad had told her to prioritize the dragon egg over Soren’s life. _That_ had been really strange. Maybe she should have realized Dad wasn’t okay? Maybe she should have asked him, or maybe even told someone about it?

Maybe all of this trouble could have been avoided if she’d realized to do something then.

“We thought we were doing what was right”, Soren said, sounding kind of defeated. “We just… I never could have thought that Dad would lose his mind or do anything evil, you know? Not in a million years.”

Soren looked really sad, and Claudia instinctively moved to try and get to his brother, only to be reminded she was still tied to the wall.

“I told you your father had been arrested for treason, but you resisted arrest and ran from me anyway”, High Priestess Opeli suddenly spoke up.

Claudia was getting tired of all the questions and accusations and barely resisted rolling her eyes. “Look, we didn’t know what was going on, but we knew something was wrong with the picture. We thought that maybe you (addressing Opeli) had seized the power for yourself or something, and had cooked up evidence against our dad.”

Opeli looked absolutely appalled. “Why, how dare you!”

Soren came to her defense: “We didn’t know, okay? We really wanted to ask our dad about it first, and couldn’t do that if we were taken in as prisoners ourselves, you know?”

“I know”, Ezran said out-of-the-blue.

Everyone turned to look at their king. “I understand. You wanted to believe the best out of your dad, no matter what. I mean, none of the adults saw it coming either that Viren would go crazy; how could you guys have?”

“Your Majesty, a word in private, if you will”, Amaya requested. Harrow also had began to say something to Ezran in whatever bird language they were communicating in.

Ezran lifted both his hands in the air, annoyedly waving at everyone. “Just let me finish, okay?”

Amaya and Harrow both went quiet.

Ezran turned to Claudia, and then to Soren, and then to Claudia again. “You guys are my friends, right?”

“Yes”, Claudia agreed, while his brother nodded, although he didn’t meet Ezran’s eyes.

“And you would never actually try to hurt me or my dad or anyone else in Katolis, right?” Ezran continued.

“Of course not”, Claudia answered sincerely, and then saw just how uncomfortable his brother looked. Claudia tried to make eye contact with him. Why did Soren suddenly look so very guilty? Surely he wasn’t still beating himself up over what their dad had ordered him to do? It wasn’t like Soren had acted on those orders! He really needed to stop feeling this sorry about it, because now was so not the time for this.

“Soren?” Ezran asked. Even he must have noticed there was something funny going on with Claudia’s brother. She had to do something and fast.

“Look, Soren’s just feeling really stupidly guilty over the way we went about trying to get you guys to come home with us”, Claudia diverted the topic. “If you didn’t want to come home with us, we shouldn’t have tried to force you.”

Now that she’d started, she might as well go all the way: “And about the dragon.” That wasn’t untrue, per se: Soren _had_ been really sorry about all the damage the red dragon had done after they had provoked it. “Soren attacked this dragon that was harassing a town, and it ended up being a bit of a bad call, because the dragon retaliated by burning half the town, but that was an honest miscalculation: my brother was only trying to help. Right, Soren?”

Finally, Soren lifted his gaze to look at Claudia. “...Right”, he agreed weakly, and then added to everyone in the room: “I’m… I’m really sorry that so many people got hurt. I thought I could handle the situation, and scare the dragon away, but that was a stupid and risky plan.”

He turned to look at Corvus and told him: “I should have listened to you: I shouldn’t have started a fight that I wasn’t sure I could win.”

“We all make mistakes sometimes”, Corvus answered surprisingly kindly. “And you two handled yourselves alright in the end. I mean, you guys shot the dragon down if I didn’t see completely wrong?”

“Yeah, we did. Eventually”, Soren agreed. “But only after it had caused a lot of damage to the town. Even then we didn’t manage to finish it off: it got away from us.”

“Dragons are not our enemy”, Ezran spoke up. “You guys had no right to attack that dragon, or try to kill it.”

Everyone stared at Ezran now.

 _Right_ , Claudia realized. _Ezran really bonded with that cute little dragon hatchling, and is probably feeling weirdly sympathetic to all of dragonkind because of that._

Ezran had always been a sensitive kid who didn’t want to harm a fly, but surely even he realized that dragons weren’t just cute pets - like the Dragon Prince kind of was right now - but deadly monsters?

“But”, Ezran said, looking like all of this was giving him a headache, “you guys didn't know that. We’ve all been told that the elves and the dragons are monsters, even though that’s not true.”

Ezran turned to look at Claudia again: “Just… don’t do that again, okay? I don’t want you guys fighting any elves or dragons from now on.”

Claudia’s mouth was left hanging wide open.

Soren asked, confused: “But, they’re the enemy, right?”

“No”, Ezran disagreed. “Or at least they won’t be if I have any say on it. Just no more attacking anyone, okay?”

Claudia tried to reign herself in. “Okay, Ezran. If that’s what you want”, she agreed, and looked to her brother, who kind of shrugged in agreement.

“Okay”, Ezran said and smiled at Claudia. “Then I don’t see any reason why guys should be kept locked up.”

All the adults in the room began talking as one at that.

“Look, I know what I’m doing!” Ezran shouted over all the disagreeing voices. “I know they messed up, but they didn’t mean any harm by it. Claudia and Soren are my friends and I trust them.”

“Ezran: please reconsider”, Amaya advised. “These two just admitted to many kinds of treason, and at the very least showcased incredibly poor judgement. They are not worthy of trust just now.”

Ezran turned to face his aunt. “It’s like Corvus said: everyone makes mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them, and I have a feeling Claudia and Soren already have.”

Amaya continued signing but Ezran snapped: “Look, as your king, I order you to release Claudia and Soren.”

Amaya stopped signing, but it also looked like it took every ounce of self control she had to keep her opinions to herself.

Claudia couldn’t help a smile spreading on her lips. They’d been right to count on Ezran to understand that this had all been a big mistake.

All they needed to do now was to make sure Dad would be let off easy, too.


	18. Healing

Ezran was making a mistake. It was a mistake born out of good intentions and a genuine wish to believe the best out of people, but a mistake nonetheless, and it took all the strength Harrow had in him not to sit his son down and force him to take his order back.

They should not have released Claudia and Soren right away like this. They just shouldn’t have.

It was possible that all the chagrin Claudia and Soren had brought on Katolis while blindly following their father’s orders had been due to an honest misunderstanding; it was equally possible there was far more to the story than a series of unfortunate miscommunications. With the information available to them, they could not know for a fact which it was, and under such circumstances, the prudent decision would have been to at the very least wait a while to give oneself some time to investigate the matter.

Instead Ezran had forgiven Claudia and Soren for everything, and released them from jail just like that. He’d done that even though, as far as Harrow was concerned, the extent to which those two remained loyal to the kingdom - let alone to its new rightful ruler - remained a big question mark.

_Even if everything was a misunderstanding, the fact that neither of them questioned their father’s orders does not speak highly of their judgement..._

Out of Soren, Harrow could believe the boy had been mislead, but when it came to Claudia, Harrow did not think she should be trusted. As far as Harrow knew, underneath all her charming openness, Claudia was an alarmingly smart woman capable of making her own decisions.

Based on all the evidence before Ezran at the time, he should not have been so ready to trust them both.

 _This level of blind faith may well come back to bite us one day_.

Harrow sighed. The ironic part was that Ezran’s mistake was exactly the kind of mistake Harrow himself had been prone to making during his early days as king. Like a father like a son, they seemed to both have a knack for listening to their hearts rather than their heads when it came to matters of trust.

Recognizing his and Ezran’s similarities made it no less difficult for Harrow to sit back and watch his son fall into the exact same pitfalls he himself once had.

Unfortunately, the one thing Harrow absolutely could not do right now was openly question Ezran’s orders. If Harrow publicly doubted Ezran’s decisions - or outright overruled his orders - he would severely undermine his own son’s credibility as king. Ezran’s position was already undermined by Harrow’s mere presence, and it most certainly could not bear to be undermined by Harrow’s words as well. Not right now, not when Ezran was still establishing his rule.

That meant that all Harrow could do was stand by Ezran, and hope his son knew what he was doing.

A strategic part of Harrow recognised that Ezran’s decision to release Claudia and Soren right away could turn out to be a savvy tactical move. Seemingly freed from all suspicion, Claudia and Soren were now able to act out whatever plans they still had, and in doing so, they might reveal their true loyalties, for good or for ill.

Not that Harrow for one moment believed that tactical considerations had played any part in Ezran’s decision; Ezran had chosen to release Claudia and Soren simply because he believed he could trust them.

Could Ezran trust them?

It was possible, Harrow allowed. Despite how close Harrow and Viren had been, Harrow could not claim to know Viren’s children all that intimately. He’d spent more time with Soren than with Claudia simply because Soren had been in charge of the division of Crownguard that stayed close to the king, but the power imbalance between a king and his guard didn’t leave much room for smalltalk, let alone a proper heart-to-heart.

Ezran and Callum, on the other hand, had been raised side by side with Soren and Claudia. It was more than likely that on a personal level, Ezran knew Claudia and Soren better than Harrow knew them.

Perhaps Harrow should put more faith in his son’s ability to justly and wisely resolve this matter. If Claudia and Soren truly were as innocent as they claimed to be, then it served Ezran well to release them right away; gods only knew Ezran needed powerful and trustworthy allies by his side in the months to come.

During his first few days as king, Ezran had uprooted many of Katolis’ long-standing policies regarding the war. It was difficult to accurately estimate how many toes Ezran had inadvertently stepped on in the process, but it was a safe bet to assume that at the very least many in the military’s top brass would be less than thrilled about Ezran’s new direction, once they learned of it.

Harrow guessed that the nobility had waited out the first week of Ezran’s rule in order to get a sense of the kind of a king he would be. Many might have hoped that a child-king would be malleable and easy to manipulate. Soon they would realize Ezran wasn’t really either of those things: Harrow’s son had a more refined set of beliefs than his young age would have warranted.

As much as Harrow hated thinking about it like that, there was a distinct possibility that Ezran had already made his fair share of enemies among people who by all rights should have been his allies. Tough times were ahead of them, and if Claudia and Soren could be trusted, Ezran had been wise to welcome them back into the fold with open arms.

 _If_ they could be trusted. For now, Harrow would have to try and keep a close eye on those two.

“A word with you, if you will”, said Commander Gren’s voice. He was clearly addressing Harrow, and General Amaya was looking at him expectantly, but it still took Harrow a good few seconds to realize Gren was in fact addressing him.

It was weird to be addressed without any kind of title. He had never been just Harrow in his life, not to anyone outside his immediate family. Growing up as the crown prince, Harrow had long ago gotten used to formalities.

Now he’d have to unlearn those habits.

Harrow cocked his head to the side to indicate he was listening. There wasn’t much else he could do, as Ezran wasn’t here to translate for him.

Ezran had insisted he wanted to talk to Claudia and Soren in private, and had gone to the backroom of the Throne Room to do so, with no one but Corvus there to guard him. Harrow didn’t want to be a constant burden on his son, but it still left a bad taste in mouth that Ezran had not taken him with. Sure, if something did happen, Corvus could probably handle the situation - better than Harrow himself could, under the circumstances. It had still taken Harrow by surprise that Ezran had let Corvus in on a private conversation that Harrow himself wasn’t privy to...

Harrow had been aware that Amaya and Gren had been speaking with each other the entire time he’d been sitting on the arm of the throne, wallowing about his son’s potential mistake. Now Amaya seemed to want to talk to Harrow, despite knowing full well that he wasn’t in a position to be able to say anything back.

Harrow could guess what the topic would be, but there was no getting out of the situation, so he sighed, and nodded at Amaya to go on with whatever was on her mind.

“ _Harrow: nod if you agree, shake your head if you don’t_ ”, Amaya ordered brazenly. “ _Do you understand?_ ”

Amaya was Harrow’s family, and they had worked closely for years, and so Harrow knew some basic sign-language. What signs he did not know, Gren’s interpreting filled in for him.

Begrudgingly, Harrow nodded. He did not look forward to having an argument with Amaya where he himself was only able to nod or shake his head, but he knew better than to complain about it. Even if Amaya somehow understood his intentions from what amounted to chirping and squawking, undoubtedly she would point out that if Harrow wished to improve his abilities to have two-sided conversations with other people, he should reconsider relocating his soul to a human body.

“ _Harrow_ ”, Amaya went on. “ _Your sons need you_.”

Harrow dead-panned at Amaya.

They were not entirely alone; High Priestess Opeli was present, alongside the usual number of guards. To their credit, they all pretended not to be listening in on the conversation.

“ _Ezran has tough times ahead of him. He will need people to counsel him and guide him, but what he also needs is people who can fight his battles for him - if needed_.”

Harrow felt like not reacting to Amaya’s words out of sheer pettiness, but eventually he nodded to indicate that he understood. He was aware of the troubles his son would be facing; he’d been thinking about them less than a minute ago in relation to Claudia and Soren, and whether those two could be considered an asset or a threat.

Harrow was a well-trained and experienced swordsman, but even so, he did not rate his own skills in combat so high as to be invaluable to Ezran’s safety. However, a completely different matter was that if Ezran was attacked with Harrow present, but unable to help, he’d never forgive himself for that.

“ _Also, we must not give up hope on finding a way to bring Callum home._ ” Amaya looked unusually emotional and vulnerable as she mentioned Harrow’s older son. “ _I know we have heard no word from him since he crossed the border to Xadia, but we must leave from the assumption that he still lives. Rescuing Callum needs to remain a top priority_.”

Harrow swallowed, and nodded. Of course Callum still lived; he had to. Ezran at least seemed genuinely confident that his brother was safe in the land of elves and dragons; perhaps even busy brokering a peace deal.

Amaya looked at Harrow seriously. “ _If you wish to abdicate your responsibilities as a king to your son, it is your right to do so, but your responsibilities as a father remain_.”

Harrow furrowed his feathers and shouted at Amaya to watch her tongue, though his words sounded more like an angry chirp than a proper shout.

He was _not_ abdicating his responsibilities! Harrow simply could not remain king under the circumstances, even if Amaya was too thick-headed to see it.

Amaya, to her credit, lifted her hands in a pacifying gesture, before continuing: “ _My point is: you have two sons, and so you do not have the luxury to fade away, no matter what your moral compass tells you to do._

 _“Also, I understand why you don’t like the solution I’ve come to offer. I really do. Hell,_ I _don’t like the idea of using dark magic to move souls from one body to the next any more than you do. That said, it is the best bad option available to us. You must see that?_ ”

Harrow wished he could tell Amaya that what seemed like the best option right now very rarely was the best option on the long run. Too many times Harrow had hidden behind similar rationales, and endorsed morally grey ideas simply because something had to be done, and they looked like the best ones available at the time.

Harrow needed to do right by his sons, but he also needed to consider what was the right thing to do, objectively.

Unfortunately, he was unable to convey any of that to Amaya without an interpreter, and so he elected to remain silent.

“ _If what you’re worried about is accidentally stealing someone’s body, don’t_ ”, Amaya commented. “ _You didn’t know this soldier, but I did. I knew him while he still lived. I know what happened to him, and I know that all that can be done to save him has already been done. His friends saw to it that his body was kept alive for as long as there was any hope of recovery. Heck, the healers have already kept his heart beating well past the point of reasonable_.

“ _He is gone, and he isn’t coming back. His parents were informed of the situation months ago. They could not personally look after him in the state that he is in, but they have said their goodbyes and made their peace with the situation. His friends have mourned him, and accepted that he is gone. His memory will not be forgotten, but it is time to let the rest of him go._

“ _If you choose not to go through with this - not to change into this body - sooner rather than later, we’ll have to let his body die. Our resources aren’t limitless, and they would be better spent helping those who can be saved. There’s no kindness in postponing the inevitable indefinitely._ ”

Amaya took a small pause, before adding: “ _Harrow. Promise me you’ll think about this one more time. I am not asking this of you as your general or even as your friend, but as an aunt to your boys_.”

Amaya stopped signing, but her gaze remained firmly on Harrow.

Harrow hated to admit it, but Amaya wasn’t entirely wrong. He may need to reconsider the situation and all of its ramifications before he made his final...

The door to the Throne Room opened, and Ezran, Corvus, Claudia, and Soren walked back in.

Ezran looked perfectly unharmed; he was in fact smiling. A weight was lifted from Harrow’s shoulders.

Ezran walked over to Harrow, looked between him and Amaya, and asked: “What are you guys talking about?”

Harrow looked to Amaya a little guiltily. Amaya looked nonplussed, and answered: “ _Responsibilities of a parent, Your Majesty_.”

Ezran crossed his arms and frowned. “You still think my father should be king, don’t you?”

Amaya looked surprised, and shook her head. “ _No, Your Majesty. That was not the topic of our conversation_.”

“ _Ezran_ ”, Harrow said, gaining his son’s attention. Ezran was young, but he was also their king. He had a right to know what had been discussed. “ _Your aunt was telling me all the reasons why she believes I should take over the body of that soldier she brought with her_.”

Ezran nodded, his face serious. “I... I understand. And you don’t want to do it, because it is wrong for anyone to live forever, and because we don’t know if that soldier’s soul is really gone or not.”

Harrow nodded, and felt relieved to hear that his son was taking his side in public, even though earlier in their private conversation, Ezran had somewhat endorsed Amaya’s idea.

“...Although.” Ezran lifted his hand to his chin. He had his thinking-face on. “We could probably ask Viren to try to heal him, you know, once Viren wakes up. Maybe his new magical healing powers could still save the soldier?”

Harrow had no idea what his son was talking about.

“Maybe it won’t work, but we’d know that we’d tried everything. It’s at least worth a try, right?” Ezran asked nervously, clearly having misread his father’s silent astonishment.

“ _Viren’s new magical healing powers, Your Majesty?_ ” Amaya asked on everyone’s behalf.

“Right”, Claudia spoke up. She walked to stand by Ezran’s side, smiled encouragingly at the king, and then turned to address Amaya and Harrow: “We didn’t really have a chance to tell you guys about it earlier, but Dad’s new Earth magic looks to be here to stay, and Earth magic can be used to heal.”

Ezran nodded. “Exactly. Soren just showed me how well his arrow-wound has healed after Viren used his magic on it.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Soren, who sort of waved his arm uncomfortably, and said: “Yeah, that’s right. The injury didn’t like vanish, but it got better a lot faster. Um, who is this soldier we’re talking about again?”

Ezran briefly explained to Claudia and Soren that Amaya had found a body she thought was empty, but that they didn’t want to transfer Harrow’s soul into it if they couldn’t be sure it really was empty.

Harrow did not appreciate how simple Ezran made the whole affair sound, nor the way Claudia’s face brightened up when she was faced with a magical problem that required a magical solution.

With a deep sense of foreboding, Harrow realized that the way Ezran instinctually relied on Claudia’s expertise reminded him far too much of the way he had relied on Viren in the not-so-distant past.

Viren’s daughter took far too much after her father, if you asked Harrow.

General Amaya gave Claudia and Soren an unimpressed look, and Harrow realized that he wasn’t the only one planning to keep an eye on those two.

“Let’s hope Viren wakes up soon so we’ll get to try that”, Ezran said, and looked to Harrow to see if his father approved. Harrow smiled at his son, and said that if Ezran so wished, then they could certainly give it a try.

Harrow could only hope that what he’d heard about primal magic was true; that it wasn’t as inherently bad as dark magic, and would therefore be safe to use for healing.

That, and that when Viren came to, he would be more like himself again - Claudia and Soren seemed to believe he wasn’t mad anymore - and would have the presence of mind to be trusted near magic.

 

***

 

Viren felt, for the lack of a better word, hungover. His head ached, all the lights were too bright, and it wouldn’t surprise him in the least if he were to lose the contents of his stomach during the next half an hour or so.

A rational part of him knew that the intense nausea he was feeling was probably caused by the poison he’d ingested, perhaps ebbed on by the fatigue of casting too much magic. What kind of withdrawal symptoms did primal mages usually get, when they put too much of themselves in their casting? Viren wasn’t sure.

All Viren knew for a fact was that he was back in the healing rooms of Katolis Castle. The old healer lady from before had jokingly told him to ‘try not to make a habit of visiting her like this’. She’d said it maybe an hour ago, and it wasn’t a very good joke, but Viren kept thinking about it over and over in his head regardless.

The situation was surreal: here he was, dragged back to Katolis in chains, guarded at all times by at least eight soldiers. And despite all that, he had been taken to the healing rooms. That meant that there was still someone somewhere who considered him worthy of being nursed back to health.

It didn’t really make sense to Viren, but despite his many crimes, there seemed to still exist a world where people talked to him, and made jokes, and wished him to get well soon, and against odds, Viren was still a part of that world.

And Aaravos was not.

Viren hadn’t felt Aaravos’ presence even once after waking up.

The room had been dark when Viren first came to, but now more and more light streamed in through the windows. Was the sun rising? Had he been unconscious for an entire day?

Viren’s hands were tied to the bed, which meant he couldn’t raise them to cover his face. Closing his eyes was the only refuge he had against the glaring brightness.

He was going to be sick soon. Viren let out a sigh as quietly as he could, so as not to alarm the guards.

He would have given nearly anything to have someone to talk to, or something to do right now. His thoughts raced around in circles, and thinking the same questions over and over only made him feel more and more anxious.

_Where are my children? What is going to happen to them? What is going to happen to me? Is Aaravos truly gone from my head?_

_Do I want the answer to be ‘yes’?_

By now Viren knew better than to try to talk to his guards; his previous attempt at smalltalk had been a taxing and jittery experience. The guards were clearly terrified of him, despite his objectively sorry state. Maybe that was for the best; the only thing that could be worse than how scared they were would be if they realized how weak he really was, and stopped being scared of him. What would they do to him then, Viren couldn’t help but to wonder.

 _My kingdom for a distraction_ , Viren thought, and smiled wryly. Not that Katolis had ever been _his_ kingdom, per se, although he had sometimes seen it as something of a joint project between...

“You look better.”

Viren opened his eyes. The dots dancing across his vision did nothing to ease his nausea, but even so, he had never been so glad to hear Commander Gren’s voice, or to see the young officer’s freckled, unafraid face looking down at him.

Gren smiled awkwardly, and amended: “Actually, you look like hell, but I hope you at least _feel_ a bit better. If what your kids told us is anything to go by…”

“Where are they? Are Claudia and Soren okay?” Viren interrupted him. He knew he was being rude, and it wasn’t wise to be rude when in Viren’s position, but he had to know.

Gren did not look angry. He looked understanding and even downright _sympathetic_.

...What had Claudia and Soren told him, exactly?

“Don’t worry. Your children are fine. They’ve been worried about you, actually. They would have come to see you in person, but General Amaya’s orders were very…”

Viren blinked. “General Amaya’s orders?”

Gren, unperturbed by Viren’s interruptions, still looked at him with sympathy, and explained: “Ever since her return to the capital, General Amaya has taken over the situation concerning your imprisonment. You wouldn’t know that, of course, since you escaped before she arrived. Although, technically she was present at your arrest. But you don’t seem to remember anything about that. I mean, how much do you remember of the past few days?”

Viren grimaced and shook his head slowly. “My memories from last morning may be a bit hazy, but I remember everything else just fine.”

He was not going to fake an amnesia. Even if that might help his case, it did not feel right to pretend all he had done had been on Aaravos.

Despite how they parted ways, Aaravos deserved better than to be blamed for all of Viren’s faults.

Gren probably deserved better, too, but Viren couldn’t really take back having imprisoned him for nearly a week during the height of his desperation and madness.

Gren frowned. “Last morning? You were captured two days ago.”

Viren blinked in disbelief. “I’ve been unconscious for _two whole days_?”

Gren rubbed the back of his head. “Actually, you’ve sort of been in and out of it. The healers said they got you to eat and drink something yesterday, so you must have been at least somewhat awake then… You don’t remember any of that?”

“Did we speak to each other yesterday?” Viren asked, alarmed by the idea that he might have said something he really shouldn’t have, without remembering that he had done so.

Gren shook his head. “Healer Kayoli was adamant that you weren’t up for having visitors yet. This is the first time we’ve spoken since your arrest. Or, I should perhaps say, since your escape, since you don’t seem to remember the arrest.”

Gren’s tone was reassuring, but Viren felt anything but reassured. “Why can’t I remember yesterday?” he asked.

What if Aaravos wasn’t gone, but merely biding his time? What if the elf had taken him over again, but this time, Viren had no memory of it?

“That’s normal for someone in your situation”, Gren explained hastily. “Or, I should probably say, the healers think it is normal. They haven’t treated anyone in your exact situation before, but they think the centipede crawling around in your head caused some swelling and symptoms similar to a concussion... I thought Kayoli explained this to you already?”

Viren tried to calm his breathing, and think that over. The old healer had been to see him not long ago. She had made a joke about Viren’s constant visits to the healing rooms. What else had she said?

Viren nodded absent-mindedly. Kayoli had probably said something on those lines, and in any case, it seemed unlikely that Gren would lie about it. Viren was probably just suffering from a good ol’ head injury rather than from anything magical or Aaravos-related.

Even if Aaravos had somehow resurfaced, there was no reason for Commander Gren to keep that a secret.

...Not that Aaravos had done any such thing, because Aaravos was well and truly gone. When Viren focused even a bit, he was sure Aaravos wasn’t there anymore.

“In any case”, Gren went on after an awkward amount of time had passed. “I wanted to drop by to see how you were doing. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, or at least more yourself, and I’ll be sure to let the general know that, too. But for now, I should probably leave you to…”

“Don’t go”, Viren said before he had time to think through what he was about to say, or remember his pride.

Gren looked surprised, but not judgemental.

Viren bit his lip. Since he had already opened his big mouth, he might as well speak. “When I’m alone, I keep waiting for something. I keep expecting… something bad to happen. I know we aren’t exactly in friendly terms right now - and frankly never have been. I know I don’t really have any right to ask this of you…”

“It’s okay”, Gren said, mercifully cutting off Viren’s embarrassing tirade. “I can’t stay for very long, but I can certainly stay for a while longer.”

Commander Gren pulled a chair from somewhere, squeezed it in between the guards and Viren’s bed, and sat down. “What would you like to talk about?” he asked.

Viren sighed, and shook his head. “Anything. You pick a topic.”

A part of Viren seriously regretted, of all the things for him to be regretful for, that he hadn’t stopped to spend more time with Gren when he’d had him as his prisoner. Isolation could really wear any man down.

Well, anyone, except Commander Gren, it had turned out. But Gren’s incredible optimism was no excuse for Viren’s frank neglect of him.

“Okay”, Gren began. He looked thoughtful for a moment, but then he smiled innocently at Viren. “Well, there was something I meant to ask of you, actually.”

Viren looked up at the commander, nonverbally prompting him to go on. He had no idea what Gren was referring to. It made sense for him to have questions for Viren, to want to interrogate him, but the way Gren had put it sounded more like he wanted to ask for a favor.

Viren was their prisoner. He was accused of treason, and the evidence against him was probably pretty overwhelming. He didn’t exactly hold many cards right now. What could Viren possibly have that Gren might want?

“Obviously what I am about to ask of you is not something we expect you to do today. You would only do it after you’ve fully recovered, and even then you can say no - for whatever reason, and you don’t even have to give us a reason - and no one is going to hold it against you if you refuse.”

Viren raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to ask me to do something for you, or talk me out of doing it?”

Gren smiled sheepishly. “It’s not for me, per se. A soldier was injured fighting at the Breach. Amaya brought him here to get some medical attention. The healers can’t do much for him, and dark magic has proven unsuccessful, but Claudia mentioned that you learned some new spell from the elf, and used it to heal Soren’s wound, and so we were wondering if maybe…”

“Yes”, Viren answered shortly. “I’ll do it.”

Viren could hardly believe that anyone in Katolis was willing to trust his judgement, or methods, or _magic_ , at this point, but if the request was made sincerely, he could think of no reason to refuse it. Why would he say no to helping some poor soldier who’d gotten hurt fighting the elves? Truly, Viren felt a tad insulted that Gren seemed to think he was pressuring Viren into doing something he’d otherwise find repulsive.

“I’ll help him if I can”, Viren repeated for good measure.

“That’s great”, Gren replied sincerely.

Viren felt compelled to clarify: “The regeneration spell I learned is different from the ones I’ve used with dark magic. I cannot guarantee it will heal him completely, but I am confident no harm will come to the soldier from my trying.”

He was probably babbling by now, but went on regardless. Work really was the best of distractions. “But you're right, I shouldn't be healing him today; if something goes wrong, I need to have all my wits about me. However, if he was stable enough that they transported him all the way from the border, hopefully he can wait a day more.”

Gren looked slightly uncomfortable, and opened his mouth to say something, but Viren cut him off: “You know what? You can tell me the specifics of his case and condition later. For now, I’d like to discuss a completely different matter: you said it was Claudia who suggested using primal magic to heal the soldier, and implied that dark magic had already been tried. Does that mean that my daughter is no longer in prison?”

Viren’s mind seemed to still be working sluggishly; only now did it truly register to him that Gren had casually mentioned Claudia as one of the people currently weighing in on some random soldier’s medical plan. How had such a situation come about?

Gren looked surprised. “Oh, you didn’t know? I mean, of course you didn’t. I probably should have said this right at the start: neither Claudia nor Soren are in prison anymore. They haven’t been for days. Nor are they waiting on trial: King Ezran cleared them both of any wrongdoing.”

Viren’s mouth was left hanging open.

In that moment, Viren regretted every mean thing he had ever said or thought about their young king. King Ezran might have his flaws, but if he had pardoned Viren’s children, he truly could not be all bad.

Viren closed his mouth and nodded. He felt very tired again. Perhaps sensing this, perhaps in a hurry to be anywhere else, Commander Gren made his exit shortly after.

Viren was once again alone with his thoughts, but at least now there was a new, more positive feeling to keep him occupied: Viren was feeling a deep sense of gratitude.

His children had been found innocent of their father’s crimes. Viren’s life and future may be in ruins, but that was nothing now that he knew there was still hope for Soren and Claudia.


	19. Old Wounds

After Gren left him be, the rest of Viren’s day was wretched and uneventful.

No one else came to see him. No one besides the healing staff, but at least Viren had some idea why that was: General Amaya was in charge of his imprisonment, and her orders probably limited the number of people who were allowed to visit him right now.

Not that Viren could think of anyone other than his children who would have much interest in visiting him for any other reason than to interrogate him or to confront him with accusations. What an uplifting thought that was.

Viren’s health took a turn for the worse during the afternoon. He felt so nauseous that he couldn’t even dream of keeping up a proper conversation with anyone. In that light, it was just as well that no such opportunity had been presented to him.

With nothing to do and no one to talk to, the day crawled by slowly. The night was only nominally better, filled with strange and unsettling dreams.

However, by the time the Sun rose to greet a new morning, Viren felt decidedly better. He still felt physically weak, the way one did when still recovering from an extended period of illness, but he no longer felt actively sick, and his mind was far clearer than it had been the previous day.

Perhaps clearer than it had been in weeks, if Viren was being honest with himself.

When Commander Gren came to visit him for the second time, Viren was ready for him.

“I feel perfectly fine”, he told the commander up front.

“That’s not what the healers told me”, Gren pointed out in a skeptical, yet cheery tone.

Viren rolled his eyes. “That’s because healers always try to play things safe to the point of unreasonable. That is their job. Your job is to look at the bigger picture and decide when good enough is indeed good enough.”

Gren lifted one eyebrow in question, and commented: “I don’t think it is ever unreasonable to want to look after a person’s health, even when the person in question doesn’t value his own health enough to be concerned.”

The rest of Viren’s arguments got momentarily stuck in his throat. He was not used to getting rebuked, and by Commander Gren, of all people! The mild-mannered soldier was usually far too polite to point out flaws in other people’s logic, let alone their personality flaws.

A small part of Viren wondered why Gren was so frank with him now.

Gren sighed. “I shouldn’t have brought up the healing thing yesterday. Honestly, take my word for it: it can wait. It - can - wait”, Gren insisted.

“Stalling could worsen his chances of recovery”, Viren argued.

“And letting you run in head first, and start casting magic again, could risk _your_ recovery. That is not an acceptable tradeoff.”

Gren sounded genuinely frustrated, which was very surprising. Viren wasn’t sure what he had done or said to get under the Commander’s skin in such a way. Nearly a week mostly alone in a secret dungeon had done nothing to break Gren’s good mood, after all. At this point, Viren had assumed Gren’s patience had no limits.

Viren took in a breath and tried to gather his thoughts. Eventually he asked: “Do you trust my judgement?”

Only after he’d asked it Viren realized that any sane person’s answer would be a flat out ‘hell no’.

To Viren’s surprise, Gren stopped to truly consider the question before answering: “On some matters, I do. Why?”

Viren tried to remember what had been the line of argumentation he’d been going for. He was eventually able to resume it: “Well, good. Then believe this: contrary to the current evidence, I can usually recognize my own limits when it comes to casting magic, and I am telling you now: I can do this.

“I know I’m not one hundred percent recovered yet, but the regeneration spell I intend to cast is a surprisingly non-taxing bit of magic. So long as I have some plant life around that I can borrow energy from, I should be fine.”

Viren had been considerably more exhausted when healing Soren’s wound, and even then it hadn’t been very difficult. Viren was sure he could pull off the regeneration spell even in his current state.

Gren’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as he considered Viren’s explanation. He half-shrugged and smiled, immediately looking more like himself again. “Fine. I guess you know your own limits. I’ll inform the General that you want to try out the healing spell today.”

Viren nodded his thanks, and then he was alone again.

Viren’s motivations for wanting to help the man were selfish, and the commander could probably see right through him; Viren was no good at sitting around doing nothing on the best of days. Healing the soldier would give him something to do, and perhaps even a mystery to solve, if the case was indeed a tricky one.

If he could help the poor soldier, maybe some good would still come of all this.

Fortunately, Viren didn’t have to wait long for the commander to return with news. Unfortunately, Commander Gren did not come back alone.

“General Amaya”, Viren said, more out of shock than as a greeting. He knew that Amaya was in the castle, but somehow, he hadn’t expected to end up face to face with her so soon.

“Viren”, Amaya signed and Gren interpreted. She looked serious, but not visibly angry. Her tone was matter-of-fact, but Viren couldn’t help but notice that she omitted his title.

Had Viren been stripped of his nobility? Perhaps not officially, but it would probably be a matter of when, not if.

He supposed it made little difference what they called him, when the effect would be the same in any case: lord or not, Viren doubted he would ever hold a position of power in Katolis again.

The thought was... more unpleasant to him than he had anticipated. Even after everything that had happened, after everything he had done to well and truly earn their distrust, the situation still felt a tad unfair to him. Had he not been a good servant of Katolis for decades before his foray into treason?

Viren quelled his feelings of betrayal as quickly as he could, and reminded himself of his place. Losing his titles would be the least he could expect as a punishment.

Viren braved himself, and looked Amaya in the eye. Her expression was unreadable.

_Why did she come here personally? What does she want to hear? Should I apologize to her for what I did?_

“Commander Gren informs me you are ready to try the healing spell on the injured soldier”, Gren interpreted.

For a moment, Viren was taken aback by the lack of, well, anything but professional courtesy and expediency in her tone. Viren looked closely at Amaya’s face to see if she really was here only to talk business, or if Gren had softened the tone in which her words had been signed.

Amaya looked like she was here to talk about the practicalities of the job at hand, and nothing else.

Viren was alright with that. More than alright, in fact. He let out a small sigh of relief. He had no idea what he would have said to Amaya, if she wanted to talk about more serious matters right now.

“Yes”, Viren answered a bit belatedly. Hopefully they would think nothing of the pause.

Viren looked around himself in the healing room; there were still no other patients present, nor had Amaya and Gren brought anyone with them.

“Will the patient be brought here, or should I go to him?” Viren asked, trying to match Amaya’s professional tone.

Amaya looked him over one more time, and then turned around and started signing at the guards: “Untie him from the bed, but tie his hands together. Then we’ll escort him to the Throne Room.”

Viren’s eyes grew wide. The Throne Room? Why were they going there? What was Amaya not telling him?

To their credit, the guards did not hesitate to carry out their general’s orders. When Viren’s bindings came undone, he rubbed at his wrists quickly. Soon he had new ropes around his hands, even tighter than the ones before.

Viren got up to a sitting position on the side of the bed, and spared a moment to consider what he was wearing: a rusty red prisoner’s tunic and trousers, though not the same ones he had escaped in. Someone had given him a fresh set of clothes at some point, probably during the day that he did not truly remember.

There was no mirror within his line of sight, but Viren did not need one to know his beard was out of style and his hair unkempt. He wondered briefly if his captors would let him do some basic personal grooming before hauling him off to see gods-only-knew who in the Throne Room. It seemed highly unlikely they would let Viren have a razor, though, so he decided not to waste everyone’s time by asking for one.

Viren did not want to go walking around the castle looking the way he did, but he did not want to make a scene about it, either. The last thing he wanted was for his captors to change their minds about letting him out of the infirmary so soon, and so it was probably safest to keep his mouth shut, ask for nothing, and only speak when spoken to.

Amaya was giving the guards more specific commands, and to his surprise and delight, Viren realized he would have understood them even without Gren there to interpret them out loud. Viren never used sign language, and was far from fluent in it, but after years of working alongside Amaya, it had seemed only prudent to teach himself the basics.

It had bothered Viren that the queen and her sister had a secret language that he did not understand, so he’d begun to study it in secret. Sarai had caught him at it one time, when he’d been practicing in front of a mirror. She had agreed to keep his secret, and had even given him a couple of lessons, and Viren had been very grateful for that. There was only so much he could learn from books.

Viren had meant to surprise Amaya with the skill once he’d gotten good enough at it, but after Sarai’s death... The right time had never really presented itself.

 _Just as well_ , he supposed now. There was power in knowing what your enemies were saying to each other when they thought you could not understand them.

...Not that Viren had considered Amaya or Sarai her enemies. Of course not! Not then.

However, the last time Viren and Amaya had spoken to each other, and Amaya had ordered Gren to stay behind in the Capital, Viren had understood more of her specific orders than he was meant to. Amaya did not trust Viren now, and she had not trusted him then, when telling Gren to expect a betrayal from him.

The memory made Viren flinch, mostly because it reminded him of something Aaravos had told him once: " _They never trusted you_."

Aaravos may have been trying to manipulate him, but that did not mean he was wrong. It seemed the elf had been right about at least this: despite their long shared history, Amaya had never trusted Viren. That knowledge hurt, even under the circumstances.

After Amaya was done instructing the guards, she turned back to Viren. “Get up, and keep pace. No sudden movements. Even if your nose itches, you don’t scratch it without asking for a permission first. Got it?”

Viren nodded, and dropped down from the raised bed. That turned out to be a mistake: the world around him turned grey for a moment, and Viren had to lean on the side of the bed to wait it out.

This wasn’t Viren’s first time on his feet today: he’d made it to the latrine and back without incident. He’d gotten up slower then, though.

 _Idiot_ , Viren told himself. As soon as his vision cleared out, he glanced at Amaya to see if she had noticed.

“Your knee?” she asked, looking surprisingly sympathetic. But soon her face hardened, and she turned around without waiting to see his reply.

Viren followed her out of the healing rooms, a few paces behind her. He did his best to keep up. After days of bedrest, his knee was actually in a better shape than it had been in weeks; barely a twinge, which was nothing compared to his throbbing head.

The walk wasn’t excessively long, but it was long enough that Viren started to seriously wonder what was actually going on here. Why were they going to the Throne Room? What surprises might await him there?

If they were determined to keep him in the dark, asking wouldn’t help, but then again, it probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

“Why are we going to the Throne Room?” Viren asked. He tried to make eye contact with Gren, but the commander’s attention was on his task of interpreting the words to Amaya. He signed and mouthed what Viren had said, and although Viren could not see Amaya’s reaction, she did slow down enough that Viren caught up to the two of them.

Amaya glanced at Viren, but her eyes did not stay on him long enough for him to say anything. Amaya did not stop walking, but she did start signing: “That’s where the patient is at the moment.”

Viren nodded. It was a relief to hear that they were still taking him to see a wounded soldier, rather than to something completely different. It still begged the question: “And why is the patient there?”

Amaya and Gren exchanged a look. To Viren’s surprise, it was Gren who answered his question: “Claudia told us about your new magical powers. Specifically, that you can still cast primal magics even though the elf is no longer feeding power to you. There are frankly a bunch of people interested in seeing your new skills in action, so I hope you don’t mind having spectators.”

Viren stopped in his tracks. They could not be serious.

“They want me to… put on a show?” He asked in a disapproving, sarcastic tone. “Do they expect balloon animals as well?”

Amaya whirled around to face him, and started signing at him. This time, she did look angry.

“You have some nerve! After all the shit you put us through, what makes you think you are in a position to make demands?!”

Viren felt a twinge of guilt at that. Amaya had a point.

He asked in a neutral tone: “Has the patient agreed to this?”

Amaya did not avert her gaze from his, but nor did she did answer him right away.

Unnerved by her stare, Viren eventually looked down and said: “If he has agreed to the arrangement, then I have no objection to it, either.”

Amaya’s expression did not soften, but at least she finally answered: “He’s not conscious, and hasn’t been for a while, but I have okayed the situation, and that is good enough. Got that?”

Viren gulped, and nodded, but Amaya wasn’t done yet. Now that she had let her anger out, it seemed she wasn’t going to put it back in a bottle any time soon.

“Also”, she went on. “Don’t pretend to have the moral high ground on this. You lost the right to do that the day you betrayed your king and turned your back on all that is good and decent.”

Viren cringed. Although it was difficult, he looked Amaya in the eye, and said: “You’re right. I lied to you, and I betrayed Katolis. You have every right to be angry about that. I know it doesn’t change what I did, or make things right, but I am sorry for what happened. For what I did. For all of it. I won’t do it again.”

As the final words left his mouth, Viren wondered if he meant them or not. He certainly had no current intentions to overthrow Ezran, nor did he have any means to do so, but if he did have the means… no, not even then. If this foray had taught him anything, it was that Viren wasn’t as infallible as he had always thought himself to be. It was high time he admitted to himself that just because he didn’t agree with Ezran on everything, it didn’t automatically mean that Ezran was wrong and Viren right.

Sometimes, Viren was the one in the wrong, and it was a bit intimidating to realize just how bad he was at telling when that was the case. If he couldn’t trust his own judgement, what could he trust?

Amaya did not look like she believed him. Could he blame her for that, when even he wasn’t completely convinced his words were true?

Was there something more Viren could say or do to convince her?

Well, he could start by being completely honest with her at least once in his life. She already knew about the crimes he had committed while Harrow was... out of the picture, but it was probably high time he let her in on another, much older and considerably more benign secret.

“Amaya, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time, but after Sarai’s death it just seemed…”

Amaya’s hands moved so fast that Viren had no time to get out of the way, or even to raise his hands to protect his face.

After a punch like that, Viren would have had a hard time staying on his feet even on the best of days. Today? Not a chance.

“You”, Amaya signed angrily at Viren, who was lying on his back on the stone floor, ears still ringing. “You do not get to speak her name in my presence ever again. Got that?”

Slowly, Viren raised his hands to his nose to see if it was broken. There was certainly plenty of blood gushing down his face.

“General”, Gren said. It was hard to tell if he sounded like he disapproved of what she had done, or whether he was merely astonished by it.

General Amaya looked like she disapproved of what General Amaya had done; she frowned, huffed, and gestured for one of the guards to help Viren back on his feet.

Viren wondered if he should stay down while he finished his sentence - it would probably be safer that way - but eventually he decided against finishing it at all.

He meant to tell Amaya the truth about knowing sign language, but on second thought, now was not the right time. It would have been true, but even Viren could see that bringing it up right now might come across as manipulative, and the last thing Viren wanted to do was give Amaya even more reasons not to trust him.

Instead, Viren nodded slowly at Amaya, and said: “Understood.”

He let two guards haul him back on his feet while he kept his own hands on his nose, slowing down the bleeding as best he could while touching his nose only gingerly. It was broken, alright.

Amaya seemed to realize that as well. She looked torn between heading for the Throne Room anyway, or going back to the healing rooms to get Viren’s nose sorted out.

Viren realized that he should probably keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying: “I can fix this. No need to bother the healers, or keep the people in the Throne Room waiting.”

Amaya crossed her arms and gave him a disbelieving look.

“I know you don’t want me casting magic, but you are already taking me to the Throne Room to do just that. Wouldn’t it make sense that I first show you that I can in fact cast healing magics, before you let me use said magics on someone you care about?”

She glared daggers at him, but Viren did his best to look neutral and innocent. Even a hint of sass would probably earn him another punch.

Gren started signing at Amaya: “ _What do you want to do, General?_ ”

Amaya looked annoyed, but she signed something back at him. Viren wasn’t sure what she had said, but it was probably something on the lines of “let’s go back to the healing rooms.”

“Fixing this will take no time at all. You don’t even have to untie my hands”, Viren said, his voice nasal, and winced, as he realized a moment too late that the soldiers around him wouldn’t be happy to hear that Viren could cast spells even when his hands were tied.

Viren had never cast this particular spell with his hands tied, but he had managed a Plant Growth spell in a combat situation earlier. This could hardly be more difficult than that. At least this time, there would be no one trying to kill him while he cast.

Amaya did not look impressed. Gren interpreted Amaya’s order for everyone to hear this time: “We’re going back to the healing rooms.”

“Within the next five minutes, you are going to untie my hands and let me cast magic, with an array of people there to watch. King Ezran probably among them. If you really think I’m going to try to make a run for it at the first opportunity, wouldn’t you rather that it was here, on this corridor, where King Ezran is not present?”

Amaya looked annoyed, but then she looked to be considering it, and in the end she sighed and signed: “...Fine. But one wrong move and you will live just long enough to regret it.”

Viren nodded, relieved that she had chosen to trust him.

Gren frowned, and asked: “Won’t you need living plants to use as ingredients, though?”

Viren thought that over, and answered: “Primal magic isn’t as reliant on ingredients as dark magic is. For this spell, the plants would work more like a power booster than a proper ingredient, anyway. That is to say, casting the spell would be easier and more potent if I had plants here, but I can make do without. Although… It will almost certainly work better if my hands aren’t tied. To be honest, I’m not even sure I can actually cast it while they are.”

Amaya waved her arms impatiently, instructing the guards to untie the ropes around Viren’s hands. The guards did not look happy about it, but they weren’t dumb or brave enough to disobey Amaya to her face, at least.

Having his hands free should have made Viren feel better, but instead he felt anxiety building in his chest; his heart beat so fast it felt like it might burst right through.

Viren hadn’t cast any spells, primal or otherwise, since Aaravos was banished from his mind. He didn’t think there was any reason why this would not work, but he couldn’t be sure that it would work, either.

_Moment of truth…_

Viren took in a deep breath and, just to be on the safe side, got down on his knees on the ground. The closeness to Earth might help, and more importantly, if he felt faint after casting, it would be a shorter way down.

Viren started drawing the rune for the Regeneration spell with one hand while he kept his other hand on his nose.

“ _Regeneres elementaris_ ”, Viren intoned, releasing the spell.

There was a small glow around his nose, but otherwise, nothing happened. Then, slowly, his nose started to feel itchy, and very soon, the tingling sensation intensified.

It wasn’t a painful sensation, per se. Certainly nothing compared to how painful some dark magic healing spells could be on the caster and target alike. It still felt unpleasant, though, and Viren was grateful when the itching began to subside.

After the tingling sensation had more or less vanished, Viren touched his nose gingerly. He could still smell and taste nothing but blood, and he thought his nose felt a bit swollen to touch, but the bleeding had stopped and his nose did not feel painful anymore.

His nose wasn’t exactly as it had been, but at least it wasn’t broken anymore.

“I think that’s good enough for now”, Viren said to break the frankly awed silence. The guards looked impressed despite themselves, and Gren smiled at him encouragingly.

Only Amaya looked unfazed. “Good. Clean up his face, and tie his hands again.”

Gren interpreted her words and then produced a tissue from his pocket, and did his best to tidy Viren up. In the meanwhile, one of the guards put the ropes back on Viren’s hands.

Viren thought about objecting - were the ropes really necessary at this point? - but decided against it. It was quite possible that Amaya had orders to bring him in chained, and frankly, the people waiting for him at the Throne Room would probably feel better seeing his hands tied, anyway.

Gren seemed satisfied that he had gotten most of the blood off his face and hands. Some of it had gotten on his tunic, as well, but since it was rusty red anyway, hopefully no one would notice.

Viren was secretly grateful that no one had told him to get up while they made him more presentable. The casting had taken a greater toll on him than he’d expected, but by the time his face was clean and his hands were tied, he already felt a lot more certain about getting back on his feet.

Viren got up. Amaya looked him over, and then gestured for everyone to get moving. However, she stopped in the middle of signing her orders, turned to fully face Viren, and asked: “Are you well enough to do this? We can still go back to the healing rooms. No one will hold it against you.”

“I’m okay”, Viren answered neutrally. “I can do this.”

Amaya looked slightly dubious, but she nodded.

Before Amaya turned away, Viren took this opportunity to say… something.

“Amaya, I’m sorry about… earlier. It was inappropriate of me to bring her up under the circumstances. It won’t happen again.”

Amaya waved him off, and started to turn away from him, and for a moment Viren thought that that was the only answer he would get, but then she paused while still partially turned to face Viren, and signed something more at him.

“She died, so you could live. What do you think she would say if she could see you right now?”

A part of Viren wished Amaya had simply punched him again. It would have hurt less.

There was a part of Viren that blamed himself for Sarai’s death, but he had not realized that Amaya blamed him as well.

Viren had told Harrow that they would not make it back to the border before sunrise if they did not leave the wounded behind, but Sarai and Harrow had insisted that they left all together, or none of them did.

When the Queens of Duren had gone to fight the King of Dragons, Viren had felt it was his responsibility to join them in their battle. Under the circumstances, doing nothing would have felt irresponsible.

Viren had thought they could win, but he had been wrong, and because of his miscalculation, three queens had died instead of two.

Viren only realized that Gren had said something to him when the young commander prodded him with his hand. Viren had not heard what Gren had said, but he nodded at the other man anyways and started walking. To Viren’s immense relief, the rest of the retinue just went with it and started moving again, lead by Amaya, who had turned her back on him once more.

They arrived at the doors to the Throne Room, and Amaya knocked on them with perhaps a bit more force than was strictly speaking necessary, or courteous.

Viren didn’t really know what he expected to find on the other side, but he tried to brace himself for anything.

A soldier of the Crownguard opened one of the doors and peeked out to see who all were on the other side. He retreated, presumably to announce their arrival. Then both doors were opened from the other side.

Viren couldn’t quite keep surprise from his face at the sight of Claudia waiting for them in the middle of the room. He was peripherally aware that there was a bed by Claudia’s side, and a person lying on it.

Claudia smiled at Viren, relief in her eyes, and he instinctively smiled back at her, albeit quite weakly. Then Viren’s gaze flew past her to the throne, and his smile died down immediately, replaced by shock.

Ezran was sitting on the throne, and on the arm of the throne, sat a bird.

 _Harrow_.

Viren stopped in his steps. He felt like he couldn’t quite breathe.

Rationally, he knew there was no reason for him to be reacting this strongly: it wasn’t like he hadn’t known all along that Harrow was in Pip’s body. He had been the one to _put him there_ , after all.

But somehow, Viren had managed to overlook that fact for the longest of times, and to completely disassociate the bird from the man in his mind. Harrow had been unable to speak for himself - and Viren had been less than in his right mind - and somehow, it had been easy for him to ignore Bird-Harrow.

Viren had not forgotten that he put Harrow in a bird, not as such, but a large part of him had wanted to put the sordid affair from his mind, and so he had made sure to keep busy with something else at all times.

Now he was looking the truth in the eyes, quite literally, and everyone else present knew the truth as well. They knew what Viren had done to his best friend. They knew the depths of his betrayal.

Viren was frozen in place. He couldn’t take his eyes off Harrow’s, and he still couldn’t breathe right.

Amaya realized Viren had stopped in his tracks. She walked back over to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and forcibly dragged him forward. Viren’s feet stumbled a little, but he caught himself and let Amaya drag him to the center of the room, closer to where Claudia was standing.

There were other people in the room, too, but Viren was in too great a state of shock to properly assess who all were present. All he could see was Harrow. All he could hear were the accusations of his own mind.

He was the worst scum of the earth. He’d had no right to do that. Viren had betrayed the only true friend he’d had. No punishment in the world was serious enough for such a crime.

There were many things he wanted to say to Harrow, needed to say to him, but he couldn’t. Not here and not now. Viren pried his eyes away from the bird and towards the floor.

It wasn’t Viren’s place to apologize. To even speak to Harrow _in public_ like this would be beyond presumptuous. He had no right to bring added attention to the fact that he had hurt Harrow. Not like this, not in front of other people.

Viren was an idiot for not having realized beforehand that _of course_ Harrow would be here. Somehow, he’d managed to be that dense.

Amaya tapped him on the arm, and when Viren turned to see her, she signed angrily at him: “ _Look at your king when he speaks to you_.”

Over the hammering of his own heart, Viren hadn’t heard what Ezran had said, or that Ezran had said anything at all. Now Viren forced his gaze back towards the throne and to meet Ezran’s. He was distinctly not looking at Harrow, although he could feel Harrow’s gaze on him like a branding iron.

The child-king looked worried. Probably more for his safety in Viren’s presence than because of anything Viren was actively doing right now, surely.

“Um, hi? Are you okay?”

...Or maybe not. No matter how old Viren might live, he was sure he’d never seize to be surprised by everything King Ezran said and did.

Not that Viren’s life expectancy seemed all that high, to be honest.

Viren realized that Ezran was genuinely waiting for a response from him. A king should not be denied, and so Viren forced himself to speak, his tone nothing but formal: “I am fine, Your Majesty.”

Ezran was still looking at him funny. He pointed at his own cheek and said: “I think you’ve got something on your...?”

Viren hadn’t seen his own image in a mirror in weeks, not since before his arrest, but he could guess what the king was referring to; Gren must have missed a spot.

“It’s nothing, Your Majesty."

Viren saw movement in his peripheral vision and turned his head slightly to the left to see what it was. Soren was standing to the side, and was waving at him. Viren made eye contact with his son, but he could not summon a smile right now.

There were less people in the Throne Room than he’d first thought. Not the whole court, certainly, despite what he had pictured in his head during the walk here. It looked to be mostly just guards, and a couple of the highest ranking nobles, such as High Priestess Opeli.

And Queen Aanya. She was seated close to the dais the throne stood on, and her face was unreadable. Viren was surprised that a foreign ruler had been invited to attend a get-together such as this, where Katolis’ internal conflicts would be front and center of everyone’s attention.

Well, where _Viren_ , the thorn at Katolis’ side that he’d become, was brought to the front and center of attention.

Viren returned his full attention to King Ezran. The child looked… hopeful?

“So, there’s this soldier. We need you to heal him, if you can.”

Viren nodded stiffly and turned to look at the bed. In passing, he noticed that Claudia was glaring at General Amaya, but then their eyes met, and she also turned to look at the figure on the bed.

On the bed lay a young man Viren had never seen before, but that was hardly surprising. Although Viren had earned himself a bit of reputation as a busybody when it came to knowing everyone and everything that went on in Katolis, even the High Mage could not claim to know every rank-and-file soldier in the kingdom’s army. Not that Viren could be certain this man was just a rank-and-file soldier, since he wasn’t wearing a uniform right now, but considering the man’s age, Viren presumed he was.

Who was this man? Why was he so important that the king personally wanted to see to it that he would be treated well? Viren had no idea. Perhaps King Ezran knew this particular soldier personally, for some reason.

Either way, he’d given his word that he’d do his best to heal him, and he would. Heck, even if Viren hadn’t given his word, there was no reason for him not to try. He’d come all this way, after all.

Claudia had turned to look at her father with an expectant look on her face. Viren met her gaze and nodded at her. He didn’t really want to make a show of himself, but he had to ask her some questions relevant to the case at hand: “What’s wrong with him?”

Claudia’s face grew serious, but it was Amaya, through Gren’s interpreting, who answered Viren’s question: “That’s none of your concern. Can you heal him or can’t you?”

Viren bit his lip, and answered calmly, without turning to look at Amaya: “It would help if I knew which part of him, in particular, is broken.”

After a heartbeat of silence, Gren interpreted: “His head.”

Viren nodded to himself. The soldier on the bed looked all around banged up; his head did not look worse than the rest of him, but Viren would have to take Amaya’s word for it.

He now noticed there was a gathering of potted plants close-by that didn’t used to be in the Throne Room. It would seem Gren had had time to relay Viren’s instructions. Good. Viren could use to added power they provided to the spell.

Viren turned to Amaya, and without a word, he offered his bound hands towards her. She untied the rope while looking at Viren with suspicious eyes.

His hands freed, Viren turned back towards the man on the bed.

There wasn’t really any point in stalling, so Viren simply placed his hand on the patient’s head. He took a breath to gather himself, and a moment to call power from the potted plants, and then he drew the rune and released it.

Immediately, Viren felt that this healing was different. Or perhaps he was doing something wrong.

He could sense damage, but most of it had already either healed a long time ago, or scarred over. Viren focused the regenerative energy to the man’s head, but there wasn’t all that much he could do there, either. He did the best he could, but his methods did not feel all too effective.

To play it safe, Viren widened the point of concentration, and moved it over the rest of the soldier’s body. There was damage all around but, again, none of it seemed recent.

Viren returned his attention to the head area, and tried to add more force behind the healing.

He only stopped when he was running out of power, and had to end the spell.

The world wasn’t entirely still. Claudia had moved to Viren’s side to offer support, but his pride did not allow him to accept it. Instead, he leaned against the frame of the bed, and hunched over to inspect his handiwork.

There didn’t look to be any change in the soldier’s condition. He hadn’t woken up, and based on what Viren had just felt, he had a haunting feeling the soldier would never wake up again.

It was clear to Viren that he had failed. Now he had to admit as much to everyone present.

Viren pulled himself up to his full height and turned to look King Ezran in the eye. He said: “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I wasn’t able to help him.”

“Why is that?” came Gren’s interpreting.

Viren sighed, and turned to answer Amaya: “I am not certain why, but based on what I saw, I don’t think there is much hope for this man’s recovery.”

Amaya… did not look surprised.

_What?! Had they known all along that his magic would not work, and set him up to fail anyway?_

However, Amaya wasn’t looking at Viren. Viren followed her gaze to see what she was looking at so intensely: it was Harrow.

… _Amaya and Harrow are having an argument?_

If so, it would hardly be the first time, but what were they arguing about this time?

“You’re sure?” asked King Ezran.

Viren wasn’t sure what they expected him to say. Turning to Ezran, he answered: “I don’t think I can help him, because… because there is nothing wrong with him, physically. Nothing that I could fix at least. The wounds are too old; either they have already healed by themselves, or they’ve scarred over.”

On a whim, he added: “I’m not… I don’t really know how to explain this, but it isn’t so much that something is wrong with him, as there seems to be something missing. Your Majesty.”

Claudia walked up to Viren’s side and smiled at him. There was an edge to her smile that he couldn’t quite place.

Viren suddenly got a feeling there was some inside joke going on that he, as the only one present, wasn’t in on. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant feeling.

“Turn over”, Amaya ordered. Viren did, and had his hands tied once more.

“I think we’re done here. Do you agree, Your Majesty?” Amaya asked Ezran.

“Actually”, spoke up an unexpected voice, one belonging to Queen Aanya of Duren, “since we are all already gathered here, could we not ask Lord Viren some questions as well?”

Her voice sounded innocent and curios, and her question seemed to be aimed at King Ezran.

“Um”, was Ezran’s less than impressive response.

For once, Viren felt sympathy for Ezran, rather than embarrassment over his stumbling, since Viren, too, had no idea what Aanya meant by “some questions”. Another inquest? A full-on trial?

“Well”, Ezran drawled out. “I guess that would make sense, but only if it is okay by you?”

It took a moment for Viren to realize that that question had been addressed to him. The situation was a bit surreal; the King of Katolis was about to put him on trial, but Viren could probably get out of said trial if he said pretty-please.

No, not out of it. He could merely postpone the inevitable.

Viren glanced at Soren, who looked as surprised as Viren felt, and then at Claudia, who had a guarded look on her face. She met his eyes, and shook her head once, barely noticeably.

Viren took in a deep breath, and said: “I am inclined to agree with the Queen of Duren, Your Majesty. I’m sure most of you have important things to attend to, and since I’m already here, getting the trial underway does seem like the expedient thing to do here.”

_Better to just get it over with._

Nothing could be worse than the wait. The calm before the storm had always been something Viren could not stand.

Ezran, apparently oblivious to the tension in the room, looked a bit cheerier. “Okay, let’s do this, then.”

After a moment’s pause, he frowned, and asked a bit sheepishly: “So, how exactly do we do this? Do I ask the questions or…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn’t enjoy a surprise trial? By modern standards, this is a sham trial presided over by a kangaroo court, but by medieval standards, Viren is probably lucky to get to be heard at his own trial. Universal human rights weren’t really a thing back in the day, when people were subjects of a monarch, not citizens of a nation. 
> 
> Some of Harrow’s ideals had an Enlightenment Era feel to them, so it is possible that Katolis has a more sophisticated legal system than this, but at the end of the day, Katolis’ king is an absolute monarch, and can do as they please. If Harrow can single-handedly promise to give away a large portion of the kingdom’s harvest, although tens of thousands of his subject will starve as a result, there are probably no checks and balances when it comes to the power that a King of Katolis wields over his subjects.


	20. On Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter to date, but I did not feel right splitting it in two. Hope you enjoy it!

There was a short recess, during which the bed and the injured soldier were taken elsewhere, and King Ezran retired to the backroom to talk with his father before the trial.

Viren stood at the center of the Throne Room, waiting. General Amaya remained glued to his side, and Commander Gren to hers.

Claudia was ordered to move to the side of the room, and she went to stand by Soren’s side. Viren didn’t get a chance to speak with either of his children. 

Somewhat irrationally, Viren would have preferred that his children were not present for this. They deserved to know the truth, but at the same time Viren would have wanted to spare them from learning all the worst things their father had done. He also wanted to spare himself from having to admit to so much in front of his children, who, despite everything, still thought their father was a good man.

On second thought, maybe Soren and Claudia should be present for this, for exactly that reason: misplaced faith did no one any good on the long run.

The door behind the throne opened, and King Ezran returned to the Throne Room, King Harrow on his shoulder. Viren found himself briefly wondering how the line of succession worked under the circumstances - was Ezran even king right now? - but Viren was too anxious about his impending trial to reach a definitive conclusion on the matter. It was probably safest to think of them both as king until told otherwise.

Viren didn’t feel ready to admit to all the worst things he had done or planned to do in his desperation, but he wasn’t sure that he would ever be ready, so there was no point in stalling.

Ezran sat down on the throne, and Harrow hopped to stand on the arm of the throne.

Viren met Ezran’s gaze steadily. The silence in the room was so full of anticipation it was almost tangible.

“We’re here to find out once and for all what all crimes you committed, and then decide what to do about you”, Ezran said, foregoing all formalities and chit-chat. 

The child’s bluntness probably should not have come as a surprise to Viren - did Ezran even know what the formalities or customs of a regular trial were? - but somehow, he had not expected to be placed under a spotlight so soon and suddenly.

Well aware that all eyes in the room were on him, Viren nodded to communicate that he had heard and understood. Since he hadn’t been asked a direct question yet, he remained silent for now.

Ezran looked like he was considering something, or maybe listening to Harrow; he had his head tilted towards the bird, and Viren thought he could see the bird’s mouth moving.

Eventually, Ezran said: “We already know most of the bad stuff you did, but it is possible we don’t know all of it. Even if we do know all your crimes, we should list them again anyway, in case everyone here doesn’t know them. How about instead of me telling you what you did wrong, you tell us that yourself?”

Viren deadpanned at the young king for a moment. There was a peculiar disconnect between the gravity of the trial and Ezran’s chosen words. If Viren wanted to be snarky, he could say that the “thing he did wrong” was getting caught. He might have snickered at the idea if the situation hadn’t been so damn serious. 

Instead, Viren decided to interpret the King’s words the way they had been meant; Ezran was giving him a chance to come clean, and list all his crimes - even the ones the court wasn’t aware of yet. More importantly, he would be allowed to do so in his own words. That was no small favor, and Viren would do well not to squander it.

Viren would do as Ezran had asked (commanded?), but first he needed to know: “Is this my official trial, your grace?”

“Um, yes”, Ezran answered. He did not sound convincing, but Viren had no reason to doubt the king’s word on the matter; if King Ezran decided that this was an official trial, then it was, regardless of how unorthodox anything else about the trial was.

Viren nodded, and declared: “Understood. Then I swear on my honor to speak the truth before my king and this court of law.”

Ezran may not know the formalities of a Katolian trial, but Viren did. Ezran hadn’t asked him for the customary pledge of honesty, but there seemed no harm in giving one anyway, especially when the informal nature of the trial allowed Viren to tweak the pledge to suit his purposes; a witness was supposed to swear to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth”, but since Viren was planning to leave at least one of his crimes unconfessed, it was better to use a condensed version, and simply promise to refrain from outright lying.

Anyone present who might call Viren out on his shortened pledge - Opeli, most likely - would not think he had changed it on purpose. It was far more likely he simply couldn’t remember it word for word, and in any case, the High Priestess was unlikely to interrupt the proceedings just to stick to a formality, when their king clearly didn’t care for such things.

Viren meant what he’d said, then: he would tell the truth, even if not the whole truth.

There were secrets Viren had no intention to share, and secrets he knew that weren’t his to tell. Viren was oathbound to keep the at least one secret of another, even if the person he had made his pledge to was no longer alive to hold him to his word.

Ezran looked like he didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Eventually, the boy simply nodded. That was probably meant to encourage Viren to get on with confessing all his misdeeds.

Viren opened his mouth, realized he did not know where to start, closed it, and gulped.

_ Think _ , he told himself. _ You know what they want to hear. You’ve been interrogated before. You know what parts they care about. Coming up with the right thing to say should not be this hard.  _

“Well?” Ezran prodded.

“You want me to confess my crimes”, Viren said. It wasn’t a question, and as a statement, it was obvious and added nothing of value to the conversation. However, it was a start, and at this point, Viren was grateful to have found his voice at all. 

“And I will do that”, Viren assured. “I just… Do you want them in a specific order or…?”

Viren cringed. It probably sounded to everyone present like he was stalling, although in actuality, he was genuinely having a hard time coming up with where to start. The list of his crimes was indeed a lengthy one.

“Um”, Ezran said awkwardly.

_...And now you’re the one asking questions from the King. Great going, Viren. _

Viren started to raise his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose, but General Amaya put a stop to that by elbowing him none-too-gently to his side. Viren froze, as he half-expected more to follow. None did. Viren swallowed, and slowly and purposefully lowered his hands.

“Chronological order, perhaps?” Viren suggested to Ezran. “Or order of magnitude?” 

Ezran frowned, and asked: “What does ‘chronological’ mean?”

The young king looked to his bird again, and Harrow must have provided the answer for him, since Ezran soon commented: “‘In the order that things happened in’. Right! That makes sense. Why not just say that, though?”

The king looked around himself, and seemed to become aware that everyone was staring at him. Ezran smiled innocently, and turned to address Viren again: “Yeah, do that. The chrono-whatever.”

Viren nodded, relieved. He could do that.

He should start with what he had done to Harrow. No. Wait. He’d gone against his king even before that.

Looking straight ahead, his eyes focused on no one and nothing in particular, Viren began: “Everyone thought the Dragon’s Prince’s egg was destroyed in the battle for Thunder’s palace. Although I knew the egg had survived, and had it in my possession, I did not inform my king, or anyone else, that I had hidden it under Katolis castle. I withheld vital information in regards to the war from my superiors, and lied to my king.”

On the last words, Viren looked up to see how Ezran was taking this. Viren made an effort to only look at the boy and not the bird sitting on the arm of the throne.

Ezran knew about this part already. He looked serious, and nodded, probably more to himself than to Viren, but Viren decided to take it as a permission to move on.

Viren continued: “My second crime would be when I…”

“Why did you do it?”

Viren looked up, startled. It had not been Ezran who asked that question but Queen Aanya of Duren.

Aanya, apparently aware that she was breaking decorum, smiled apologetically at Ezran. Ezran did not look offended. He smiled encouragingly back at her, and then trained his inquisitive eyes on Viren.

There seemed to be no way out of answering the Queen’s question, then.

“Dragons and elves believed the egg had been destroyed. There was no telling what they might do if they learned otherwise. I thought it safest that they not find out we had it, and to that end, it seemed prudent to tell as few people as possible.” 

Viren sighed, and looked down again. “As for why I did not inform my king of the situation… I was arrogant, and foolish. I thought I could handle it on my own. No, worse: I believed I could handle the situation better than anyone else in Katolis could, and therefore did not need anyone’s help or permission.”

Viren looked to Aanya, and then to Ezran. The former was hard to read, the latter was frowning and asked: “What were you going to do with the egg?”

Viren was a bit surprised by this line of questioning, but it was still a fair question for the King to ask. “For the time being, my plan was to keep the egg from the hands of our enemies, who probably had a use for it. As for the long run, I hadn’t decided…”

“‘A use for it’”, Ezran repeated Viren’s words back at him. “What ‘use’ could they have for it? It was an egg!”

In his exasperation, the boy sounded so much like his father that Viren couldn’t help but smile a small, rueful smile at him. 

Ezran did not look amused. “It was very wrong of you to take the egg.”

Viren sobered, and nodded. It seemed that Ezran didn’t want to simply hear what had happened, but also lecture Viren about the wrongness of his deeds while they were at it. As king, that was his right.

“I see that now, your majesty”, Viren answered shortly. Ezran seemed to expect a verbal respond.

Viren genuinely regretted his actions in regards to the dragon prince’s egg, though not in the way Ezran expected him to. Viren still believed it would have been foolish, wasteful, or even downright dangerous to leave the egg where he had found it. However, he couldn’t deny that taking the egg  _ in secret _ had been a questionable idea as well.

If Harrow had known Viren had the egg, he might have ordered Viren to take it back. Therefore, Viren had not asked for Harrow’s opinion or permission, and that, more than anything, made taking the egg the wrong thing to do, in Viren’s opinion. 

Ezran still didn’t say more, so Viren sighed, and clarified: “King Harrow was not with me when I found the egg; it was days after the battle that we next saw each other. At the time I thought that what was done was done. But, I see now that that was no excuse for keeping such a thing a secret. I should have told my king about the egg at the first opportunity. Keeping it was not a decision I had any right making on my own.”

Viren couldn’t help but wonder what would Harrow have ordered him to do about the egg if he had known Viren had it. Take it back? Bargain with it? Break it? Viren would probably never know.

Ezran still looked unsatisfied with Viren’s answer. “You shouldn’t have taken the egg to begin with. He belongs with his mother.”

Viren nodded, and bit his lip to make sure he wouldn’t argue. 

The Queen of Dragons may not have  _ personally _ killed as many citizens of Katolis as the Dragon King had, but she was still undeniably one of Katolis’ most ardent and dangerous enemies. It bothered Viren that Ezran seemed incapable of seeing that, incapable of imagining her as anything other than a doting mother. Did Ezran really believe that getting her son back would be enough to quench the Dragon Queen’s desire for vengeance for what the humans had done to her mate?

Considering how Ezran’s own mother had been a celebrated war hero, who went down fighting for her people, Ezran should have known better than to equate motherhood with peacefulness. However, even Viren could see that this was not the time nor the place to argue about such a thing. The ice under Viren’s feet was thin enough as is, without him purposefully stomping on it for good measure.

“There are no excuses for what I did”, Viren answered seriously.

That answer seemed to finally appease King Ezran. He glanced to his side, to where Queen Aanya was seated, silently asking her for a permission to move on to the next topic.

Queen Aanya had the decency to blush at that. “I apologize for interrupting the trial earlier. If it bothered your majesty, I will not do so again.”

Ezran looked baffled. “Oh, I didn’t mind. It was a good question. I’m glad you brought it up.” Ezran smiled encouragingly at Aanya, who smiled back at him kindly. 

Viren had to bite his lip again, this time to keep from groaning. Aanya’s question had been valid, but that wasn’t the point; Ezran was the King of Katolis, and he was in the process of questioning and sentencing one of his own subjects. For treason, no less! 

The Queen of Duren had no jurisdiction here, and Ezran should have reminded her of that. Looking to the Queen for assistance made Ezran look weak, like he couldn’t handle internal Katolis matters without outside help.

However, it was not Viren’s place to comment on such a thing.

Ezran turned to Viren again, and prodded: “What happened after that?”

Viren winced. The next item on the agenda was a lot harder to talk about, or justify, but there was no escaping it. 

“A day before the night of the full moon, we learned that powerful elven assassins were intent on murdering King Harrow come nightfall. We failed in our efforts to locate the assassins during daytime, when they would have been more vulnerable, and there wasn’t enough time for the Standing Battalion to return to the city. We were running out of ideas, and out of time. I suggested to the King that we could use dark magic to confuse the assassins by switching his soul to a different body. The way I saw it, it was the only way to save his life.”

Viren glanced Harrow’s way. Judging by the bird’s body language, he was either telling Ezran something, or very much wanted to, at least.

The boy king did not interrupt Viren, though, so he went on: “King Harrow refused, initially, but I went to see him a second time. I thought I could persuade him to agree to the plan by bringing up… new information.”

“And what information was that?” Queen Aanya asked, this time without any deference to Ezran’s position.

Viren looked to Ezran, but he seemed more interested in Viren’s answer than reminding Aanya that they were not in Duren.

Viren sighed. A direct question could be given but a direct answer: “When I introduced the idea to my king the first time, Harrow asked me if I would be willing to trade my life for my king’s. I had not anticipated such a question, and was unable to produce a satisfactory answer on the spot. Later, I gave the question a great deal of thought and came to the conclusion that I would. I went to see Harrow for the second time to…” 

Viren glanced at Harrow again, but he still could not interpret the bird’s reaction. 

“My intention was to offer to trade places with him. I reasoned that having a volunteer would make the plan seem more actionable, and would compel King Harrow to accept my offer.”

Viren was immeasurably grateful that he had already told his children about this part. He did not dare to look their way now - he did not want anyone to misread the situation and think Viren’s children had had something to do with it, after all - but there was a comfort in knowing that this was not Claudia and Soren’s first time hearing about this.

Now that Viren focused on them, he thought he could feel his children’s presence. It was as if they were standing by his side, and reaching out his hand would be enough to come in contact with them.

Soren and Claudia felt nervous and upset, but unharmed. 

Was this a new form of magic, or was Viren only imagining that he could feel his children’s presence in his core? Either way, the feeling made Viren feel rooted and powerful, and gave him courage to say: “Obviously, things didn't go as planned, but if such a thing is asked of me now, my answer will remain the same: I will trade places with my king. At this point, it is probably the least I can do.”

Viren thought he could hear Claudia gasp, and Soren freeze in place. He badly wished he could explain to his children that he wasn’t making the offer because he wanted to - Viren didn’t want to be cut off from his family now that they were back together again - but he felt he had no other option. 

Viren had done a lot of questionable things. He had justified some of those deeds to himself by saying that everything he had done, he had done for the good of Katolis. That could only be true if he would not benefit from his misdeeds personally, in the end. 

It was time to put his money where his mouth was.

“That won’t be necessary!” Ezran said hastily, waving his arms in a comically obvious expression of ‘no’.

Viren blinked, surprised by the sheer intensity and certainty of the king’s refusal. How could Ezran speak so confidently for his father?

Despite himself, Viren turned to look at Harrow directly. Harrow was… still impossible to read, but surely he agreed that something had to be done?

“We can’t leave him in a bird for good”, Viren pointed out awkwardly. He was aware that he was arguing against his own interest, but then again, had he ever known when to shut up?

“Maybe you should have thought of that before putting him in one, then”, Commander Gren said coolly, interpreting for Amaya. 

Viren turned to look at her, astonished that Amaya, of all people, would undermine Ezran’s authority by intersecting herself into the conversation without permission to speak. Though, after the way Ezran had reacted to Queen Aanya’s interruptions, maybe interrogating Viren was anyone’s game.

Ezran may be the King of Katolis, but he was bad at acting the part… Not unlike Harrow had been, at times, at least where Viren was concerned.

“What my father decides to do is his decision and no one else’s”, Ezran declared to everyone in the room, sounding surprisingly serious and regal for a moment . Then the boy’s eyes met Viren’s, he smiled sheepishly, and added: “We’re not putting dad in Lord Viren’s body though. That much is for sure.”

A wave of relief washed over Viren, although he was left wondering what Ezran had meant by that. Did they have some other plan in mind for getting Harrow out of the bird?

“If it’s alright by King Ezran”, Queen Aanya said, her eyes on Viren, “I would like to hear more about the part where you went to see your king, and ended up putting his soul in a bird instead. Things ‘not going as intended’ sounds like an understatement.”

Viren grimaced. It had not been easy for him to offer himself to be put in a bird, but that had at least been something that he could do, right here and now. It was a solution-oriented, ahead-thinking plan. Dwelling on past mistakes? That Viren could not stand.

Viren did not owe an answer to Aanya, but he owed one to Harrow.

Eyes cast down, Viren said: “I tried to present my plan to the King, but he did not want to hear it. Time was running out, and I could not… I could not make myself be understood. I was… presumptuous, and my king grew tired of my presence. Eventually, he turned his back on me, and told me to leave his sight. I got up, knocked him unconscious with my cane, used magic to subdue the bird - the only other living thing in the room besides us - and performed the ritual on them anyway.”

The room was very quiet. Yeah, even Viren could admit that it sounded worse said out loud than it had sounded in his head. 

Viren was still a bit amazed that he had been able to pull of the soul switch without anyone noticing what he had done. It was as if the stars had aligned to make it so; he brought Harrow down in a single strike, quieted the bird before it caused an alarm, performed the spell with the guards outside none-the-wiser… So many points where things could have gone wrong, but hadn’t.

“And?” Queen Aanya prodded.

Viren frowned, but continued: “I put the bird in its cage - Harrow was still unconscious, and his new body was relatively small, so that wasn’t difficult. Pip was unconscious as well, and dragging the King’s body to his bed was a lot more work, but I managed. It did not seem plausible that Harrow would have gone to bed in full armor, but I was worried I had already taken too long. I lost my sense of time during the ritual. Someone might come in to investigate, and would get the wrong idea, so I just left, leaving Harrow and Pip and the Soulfang in the room.”

That had been the moment when Callum had shown up out of nowhere to tell Viren that he “knew what Viren had done”. For an awful heartbeat, Viren had thought Callum somehow knew what he had done to Harrow just now.

In retrospect, the teenager had probably been referring to the dragon egg he had taken from Viren’s laboratory that night, but in that moment, the dragon egg had been the furthest thing from Viren’s mind. He had panicked, and magically drained Callum’s voice from him, to prevent him from telling anyone.

In his outburst, Viren had called Callum names he shouldn’t have. Hopefully, no one present had read anything into his unusual choice of slur. Regardless, Viren would do well not to remind anyone of that particular altercation.

Viren continued his story: “I told the guards posted outside that the King did not wish to be disturbed. When the assassins arrived moments later, everyone had other worries on their minds. They moved so fast… I guess no one stopped to wonder why Harrow had gone to bed on a night such as that, or maybe the guards had overheard some of the things Harrow had said earlier that night, and thought that…”

Viren decided against finishing the sentence, and let his words trail off instead. He’d meant to say that the guards may have thought it in-character for King Harrow to meet the assassins lying down, considering how demure he’d been towards the end. Just sitting around, waiting for his enemy to come to him.

Worse, with all that talk about mistakes he had made, it had sounded as if Harrow welcomed the attempt on his life. He seemed to agree with the elves that his time had come.

Viren winced. He felt bad for what he had done to his friend, he truly did, but as he thought back to that night, he could also feel a familiar anger rising inside of him.

“Dad wants to know why you did it”, Ezran said, sounding as hurt and betrayed and angry as Harrow himself probably would have sounded if he had a voice with which to ask.

Viren sighed. How to best answer that? Viren did not want to lie, but he wasn’t sure even he knew his own rationale.

“I wanted to protect him”, Viren admitted. “I wasn’t ready to let King Harrow die, but… I was also very, very angry with him, for going down quietly, for giving up without a fight.”

Viren turned to look at Harrow, and addressed him directly: “You gave up, and not just on whether we would be able to fight the assassins off, but whether we should even try. Out of some misplaced sense of guilt, you decided that the elves had the right of it, that you deserved what was coming, and I wasn’t having it.”

Looking into Harrow’s hard eyes, the anger left Viren as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving behind only regret.

“Then you conveniently forgot to tell anyone about what you had really done to your king”, Amaya finished for Viren via Gren’s interpreting.

Viren nodded. “That was not my plan, originally. In truth, I didn’t have much of a plan, but I did intend to let Harrow out sooner. More or less right away, after the threat had been dealt with.”

“But?” Ezran asked, or maybe it was Harrow through Ezran.

Viren bit his lip. He would probably do well to say he had gone mad, and leave it at that. Then again, Harrow deserved to hear what had been going through his head when he had decided to do what he did.

“I kept thinking that I needed to protect Harrow from the world, but that I also needed to protect Katolis from Harrow. I thought my king was having an existential crisis on the worst possible moment. If Harrow thought the elves were justified in taking his life, what else might he think the elves were entitled to? I feared he would order Katolis to surrender unconditionally, or worse.” 

Viren felt shaken, but he went on: “I wanted to give Harrow some time to get his act together. I thought that if I took over his duties, and set things right, when he returned, it would be okay. Somehow. And it wasn’t just Harrow I doubted. At that point I thought everyone around me was either unreasonable, or incompetent, or too dumb to understand what I was trying to accomplish, and so I had to do it alone.

“I was the only one, whose judgement could be trusted; the only one, who could see the bigger picture. In truth, though, even I can’t make head or tail of what my actual plan was at the time. Maybe I didn’t have one. I told myself I was serving a greater good, but I was mostly acting for the sake of acting: to give myself something to do, so I didn’t have to stop and think that maybe, just maybe, everyone around me hadn’t gone insane overnight. That maybe, objectively speaking, I was the one who had turned against my people, and betrayed my vows, and gone against all the things I had once believed in. That maybe, no amount of hard work or planning or success would make right what I had done to my king.”

For a moment, Viren didn’t feel quite stable on his feet. He closed his eyes. The moment passed, and he didn’t faint.

_ No such luck _ , he thought sourly. Not that he’d ever been one to run away from a confrontation. It was just hard admitting all of this; and not just to the others, but to himself as well.

Suddenly, Viren thought he could feel Claudia squeeze his hand, and Soren give him a hug. It wasn’t real, but it was comforting. Viren took in a deep breath, and opened his eyes again.

“Sounds like you kept busy”, Gren’s voice asked from behind Viren. “Care to elaborate on what all you got up to while I was at the border?”

Amaya’s question was snarky, but justified, and frankly, at this point, Viren welcomed the change of topic whole-heartedly.

Viren turned to look at Amaya, and then at Gren, and replied: “I imprisoned Commander Gren, for one. I didn’t think that that was me betraying my side, though. Just another thing on a long list of things that needed to be taken care of, no matter the cost.”

Amaya looked thoughtful, and started signing again: “Why did you try stop us from rescuing the princes?”

Viren grimaced, and turned to face Ezran as he answered: “Because they were young, and inexperienced, and I thought they would make weak rulers. I found it in me to justify not making their rescue a top priority. It wasn’t rational, but I felt like I had to be able to control or anticipate everything that happened around me, and the princes’ sudden return would have been incompatible with that equation.”

“You sent your own children after them, though”, Amaya pointed out.

Right. That. What should Viren say to that?

“I had to do something about the princes, and there weren’t many people I trusted to handle the situation in a way that felt like it was under my control. My children were… I used them. I took advantage of Claudia and Soren’s trust in me. They thought that I wanted to help the princes, when in reality, I was too far gone to genuinely care that Harrow’s children were in danger somewhere. I didn’t even think or care that I was sending my own children into said danger after them.”

Viren sighed. “I’m sure this doesn’t mean much to anyone, but I would have you know that I regret my callous disregard for all things decent. I regret making my children unwitting accomplices in my plans, and if I could go back and redo it, I’d like to believe I wouldn’t be as awful about handling the kidnapping situation as I was.”

Finally, Viren turned to face Claudia and Soren. Viren could feel that they wanted to talk to him, or maybe just sit with him quietly. To be there for him. That meant everything to him. 

Surely, Viren could not be all bad if he had managed to raise two such wonderful people. Surely, only insanity could have made him act so horribly towards the people he cared about the most. If Viren’s children still didn’t think him evil, then surely Viren could believe that of himself as well, in time.

Viren looked around the room, at all the familiar faces. It seemed that those who had been most hurt by his lies would be his judge and jury now. That felt oddly fitting.

There were still crimes to list. Viren took in a deep breath and got to it: “I forged the royal seal on official letters, and summoned the Meeting of the Pentarchy without the High Council’s approval. When I was faced with accusations of treachery, instead of handing myself in, I hid away in the dungeons under the castle.”

Viren hoped he wouldn’t be expected to weigh on each of his crimes individually. He wasn’t sure he could handle much more emotional turmoil.

Unfortunately, there was still one elephant in the room that he had yet to answer for: Aaravos.

As if reading his mind, Queen Aanya asked: “What about the elf in the mirror? When and how did he figure into all this?”

Viren did not feel ready to think about, let alone talk about, Aaravos, but he tried to emotionally distance himself from the topic, and stick to the basic facts of the matter.

“When we raided the Dragon King’s palace, I discovered a mirror with magical runes on it. The dragons had kept the mirror in their inner sanctum, close to where they slept, and so I reasoned it must be a potent magical artifact. I brought the mirror to Katolis, and spent a long time studying it, but it was only some time after I betrayed my king and sent my children away that I finally figured out how to operate it.

“I realized the mirror lead to a different world, and that there was an elf trapped in there. I wanted to understand why. The elf could see me as well - much later, he admitted to me that he’d been able to see me through the mirror the whole time I’d been trying to uncover its secrets. At first, we could not talk to each other through the mirror, but we still communicated as best we could.”

Aanya frowned. “When exactly did you start communicating with the elf?”

Viren thought back to when he had first laid his eyes on the enchanting mystery that was Aaravos, winced, and tried to answer the question as matter-of-factly as possible.

“I communicated with Aaravos a day or so before I left for the the Meeting of the Pentarchy. However, it was only after the meeting - after I was faced with charges of treason - that I threw all caution to the wind and, on the elf’s insistence and with his guidance, cast a blood ritual to bind our souls together.”

Another stunned silence followed his confession.

Viren sighed, and took this moment to meekly point out: “At the time, I did not know what a monumentally bad idea it would turn out to be. I thought I had the situation under my control. I did not know how the ritual worked, but I was under the impression that it would merely provide us with a way to talk to each other through magical means. I did not realize how much control the elf would have over my thoughts and actions from that point forward.”

Viren’s shoulders slumped as he realized just how pitiful his excuses truly were. “I can hear what a weak defense that is; by all means, I should have known better. It was just… there was much left to do. I had to make things right before I’d run out of time, and I didn’t think the ritual could make things worse than what they already were. Obviously, I was wrong about that, and I am…”

Viren’s voice barely carried as he finished: “I am sorry for making everyone else pay for my mistake.”

Queen Aanya leaned forward in her chair, and commented: “My understanding is that the elf still lives, yet you speak of him in past tense.”

Viren nodded slowly. “After rescuing me, my children realized that something was wrong, and made me realize it as well. They were able to use a different magic ritual to break my connection to the elf.”

Aanya did not look surprised to hear that, which made Viren think that she had already known it, and was merely toying with him. 

“May I say something?” Claudia asked out of the blue, and stepped forward.

Viren’s head snapped towards her. He wanted to keep his children out of this, but Claudia looked determined to be heard.

“Sure”, Ezran agreed and nodded, giving her the go-ahead. He did not sound excited, but he did not sound unkind, either. 

Claudia smiled at Ezran quickly, and then addressed the whole room: “When our dad sent us to find the princes, he was acting odd. My brother and I both noticed that something was off, but we thought he was just really stressed out about the situation, or maybe even mourning Harrow in his own way. It was only later, when Soren and I compared notes, that we realized that something really strange must be going on in Katolis for our father to be acting so weird.

“When we returned to Katolis and got a chance to talk with Dad, he was still acting weird - in some ways even weirder than before - but it was a different kind of weird; his new magical powers and the seizures couldn’t be about stress. We knew there was something  _ magical _ wrong with him, and that made us really worried. However, in a lot of ways, Dad was better and more himself when we returned than he’d been when we left.”

Claudia scratched the back of her head, clearly looking for the right words to say to explain what she was getting at. 

A part of Viren wished she would stop talking, lest she accidentally incriminate herself or her brother in some way. Another part of him was deeply grateful to her for trying to stand up for him like this, even when he hardly deserved her support.

“What do you mean by ‘seizures’?” Gren asked. 

Viren wasn’t looking Amaya’s way, so he wasn’t sure if Gren had been interpreting for her or speaking for himself, but somehow, he did know: Gren sounded different when speaking as himself or when speaking as another, and this had been Gren.

“Didn’t dad tell you?” This time it was Soren who spoke up. “When dad got angry at the elf, and said he wouldn’t play ball anymore, the elf tried to straight up  _ murder _ him. One minute, dad was talking to us, but the next thing we knew, dad was unconscious, and in pain, and something was  _ moving inside his head _ , and… ugh, did I mention there was an elf-bug crawling in his ear? Like, ewww.”

Viren was grateful to Soren as well, for trying to pitch in, although he suspected that neither Claudia nor Soren had said anything that would mitigate Viren’s guilt in any way.

“Is that what happened to you in your cell?” Gren asked, this time from Viren. “When you stopped breathing; was that the elf’s doing? Was he trying to hurt you then, too?”

Claudia and Soren turned to stare at their father, wide-eyed, and Viren was reminded that there were things he had not told his children about, and this was one of them

Viren turned to look at Gren, and answered: “Yes and no. Yes, it was Aaravos’ doing that I stopped breathing, and fell unconscious for a few hours, but no, he wasn’t doing it to hurt me.”

Gren looked at him dubiously. “How does that work?”

Viren sighed, and explained: “He did something to me that made it so that I couldn’t breathe, which was admittedly rather unpleasant - and more than a little alarming, since I didn’t know he could do that - but he wasn’t trying to truly hurt me. On the contrary: he did it to help me.”   


The explanation had sounded reasonable in Viren’s head, but Amaya and Gren were looking at him now like he’d said something nonsensical. Viren thought over what he had said, realized his mistake, and amended: “Aaravos was trying to explain primal magics to me, but I wasn’t getting it, so he choked me to inspire a breakthrough. He wanted me to learn and understand. In that sense, he was trying to help.”

Amaya looked like she wanted to say something, but that there was so much to unpack here that she didn’t know where to start.

On a level Viren could see why they were skeptical, but at the same time, he really wanted to get the message through that Aaravos wasn’t the deplorable villain they currently thought him to be.

“I know it is hard to believe, considering the way he isolated me, and manipulated me, and used my hands to kill, but Aaravos isn’t evil. He is… different. Unique. Unlike anyone I’ve ever met. There is so much we could learn from him. Besides, he was never unkind to me. Well, towards the end he was terrifying, but even so, I don’t think he did the things he did just to manipulate me. I believe that, in his own way, he was trying to help me all along.”

Viren thought he had made a pretty compelling case, but for some reason, no one around him looked convinced.

Gren was the first to break the awkward silence: “You did decide to get rid of your connection to the elf, right? Can you think back to what made you decide to do that?”

Viren frowned. “Of course I can. I found out that Aaravos had used my body to channel spells, and that he had killed some of the guards during my initial arrest. He lied to me about it, making me think it had been my own doing. When I learned the truth, I confronted him, and he promised not to do it again. I think he meant it too, but... with a crime that serious, I couldn’t take my chances with it. I knew then that I had to find a way to break our connection.”

Gren smiled at Viren with an understanding smile on his lips, but somehow, the gesture came across as patronizing. Viren felt insulted, but he knew they would be even less likely to take him seriously if he let his anger show, so he took in a deep breath to calm himself, and kept his voice even: “It can’t be understated what terrible things I had done, and what terrible shape I was in, even before I met Aaravos. I was unstable and out of control, and Aaravos took advantage of that, but learning to separate Aaravos’ thoughts from my own forced me to look within and admit that I did not know myself anymore. The conversations I had with Aaravos helped me find myself again, and no matter what else he did, I will forever owe him for that.”

This time it was Queen Aanya who broke the silence: “Who is he? What does he want? Why is he locked in a mirror?”

Viren locked eyes with her. “I don’t know… or rather, I’m not sure. Aaravos refused to talk about his past, but I do know that he is ancient - older than the war between elves and men, and that he is connected to all the six primals, and that he likely knows more about magic than anyone else alive today.

“He claimed that he wasn’t on the elves side; that it had been the elves who trapped him in the mirror, centuries ago, and that he wished vengeance on his kind for that. So he told me, and I believed him.”

“Do you still believe him?” Aanya asked.

Viren didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. Whatever else he is, he is no friend to his countrymen.”

“Did he say  _ why _ the elves locked him in a mirror?” Gren interpreted Amaya’s question. She looked curious despite herself.

Viren shook his head. That was something he had not had a chance to find out. Towards the end, Aaravos had promised to tell Viren everything, but it had been too late. Viren had gone through with the banishing ritual, and now he would never know.

Well, he had his guesses, but now he would not know for certain.

King Ezran spoke up: “Dad wants to know what kind of ritual it was that you used to connect with the elf. You know, so we’ll know not to do so by accident.”

Viren smiled a humorless smile at that. “It can’t be done by accident. The ritual requires several components, prep work, and both participants’ blood. Unless you find yourself compelled to cut your hand in front of the mirror, you should be fine.”

The ritual had also required Viren to be foolish enough to let a centipede from another dimension to sit on his ear, but Viren felt that part did not need to be said out loud.

Ezran nodded, listened to his father’s chirping, and asked: “Is there anything else you’d like to confess to?”

“Yes”, Viren admitted, and turned to look at Queen Aanya. “I conjured up shadow versions of elven assassins, and sent one of them to Duren. I sent one to each of the four human kingdoms, with instructions to spread fear and doubt among our allies.”

“To all the kingdoms?” Ezran asked, looking mildly horrified.

Viren nodded.

“Can you call them back?” the King asked.

Viren sighed. “Regrettably, I cannot. The spells are autonomous once cast. However, they do not maintain potency indefinitely. In time, they will wear out.”

Viren grimazed, and added: “At the time of casting, Aaravos helped to boost my spellwork, so I cannot give you an estimate for how long they will last. Could be day, could be months, but probably towards the upper end of that estimate.”

“Why did you do it?” Queen Aanya asked at the exact same time as King Ezran asked: “Aaravos helped you send the smoky assassin to Duren?”

The two royals looked at one another, and Viren looked between them. He decided to answer his king’s question first: “I told Aaravos I was frustrated that the other kingdoms were unwilling to unite in the face of the Xadian threat. He suggested that fear would be a good motivator, and guided me through the steps to create the shadowy menaces. I knew similar spells, but Aaravos inspired and strengthened the casting.”

Turning to Aanya: “I hoped the apparitions would be mistaken for Moonshadow Elves, and that having assassins lurking around would encourage you and the other rulers to reconsider your stance on the war.”

His ploy had been unsuccessful, at least where Duren was concerned. Queen Aanya would no doubt inform the other kings and queen about Viren’s treachery, so it had all been for nothing, in the end.

Viren felt like adding that he hadn’t intended the specters to do any true harm to anyone, only to frighten people, but that would have been a lie, so he held his tongue. At the time of casting, Viren had not been particularly interested if his actions would lead to untimely deaths.

Vireb shuddered: he was able to remember his reasoning quite clearly, but he could no longer fathom the madness that must have fed it. He still believed the other kingdoms were visionless cowards, but he wouldn’t send assailants after them again - if for no other reason than because the deception had been poorly thought-out and crudely executed from the start.

Since no other questions were asked on the topic of shadow assailants, Viren decided to move on: “When the Crownguard tried to arrest me, I resisted arrest violently. Rather, Aaravos resisted arrest through me, but the blame for that still falls on me, because I let him to use me in such a way.”

Viren could feel Claudia’s anger all the way across the room. Yes, he had promised her that he would try to argue his case, and put a positive spin on it, but there was only so much he could flourish the facts.

Was there anything else Viren should confess to? Was he overlooking something? Now seemed to be his one chance to come clean.

Viren went over the list in his head: he didn’t tell Harrow about the dragon egg. He put Harrow in a bird against the King’s will, and hid the truth from everyone. He tried to seize the throne for himself, although his king still lived. 

He’d meant to take over temporarily, but there was no telling if he’d have changed his mind about after being given the keys to the kingdom. However, his ambitions for the throne were something everyone present already knew about, so it probably didn’t need to be pointed out separately.

Viren had mistreated his own children. He hadn’t made rescuing Harrow’s son and stepson a priority. He imprisoned Commander Gren. He forged the royal seals, and presented himself as a regent, while Katolis was without a leader.

Viren had hid from justice. He’d made a pact with a suspicious elf, then he’d let said elf get inside his head, and influence his actions.

Viren had sent shadow assassins to all the other human kingdoms. He’d let Aaravos kill soldiers through him.

He hadn’t been an easy or forthcoming prisoner.

“When I was captured, I wasn’t cooperative. I hid the fact that I was magically connected to Aaravos. I escaped the castle. I destroyed at least one corridor on my way out, and caused damage to the underground tunnel network.” 

Viren hoped someone had blocked the new tunnel he had dug.

What else?

Viren had ordered Soren to kill the princes. There was no escaping that fact, as crazy as it felt to him now.

_ How could I have done that to my own son? How could I have wished that for Harrow’s boys? _

It was one of Viren’s greatest crimes, but also one he could not admit to in public. It had been Viren’s fault and he deserved to be punished for it, but there was a risk that some would place blame on Soren as well, for not immediately and loudly rejecting his father’s terrible orders. Viren could not risk ruining Soren’s life and future for this.

“Anything else?” Ezran asked.

Viren couldn’t think of anything, so he shook his head

Ezran frowned. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Am I?” Viren answered stupidly. “I mean, it is possible, your majesty. What am I forgetting?”

“You put Rayla’s friend in a coin”, Ezran chided.

Viren did not know who Rayla was, nor who ‘Rayla’s friend’ was, but luckily, the coin bit was a giveaway; there were only so many people he’d ever condemned to such a faith, and even fewer that Ezran was aware of.

Ezran was talking about the Moonshadow Elf Viren had had as his prisoner. The head-assassin. The one who killed Harrow. Well, if not for dark magic.

Viren should probably have foreseen this topic coming up again; the first time they had spoken after Ezran’s return, King Ezran had been under the impression that Viren had committed a grave crime in regards to his elven prisoner.

In retrospect, perhaps Viren had treated his prisoner with unnecessary cruelty. Perhaps it would have been kinder to kill the elf than to leave him to die of his wounds, and then trap his essence in a coin.

Viren had made mistakes in regards to his elven prisoner, that much was for sure. Chief among them, in Viren’s opinions, had been his own ineffectuality and failures in interrogating him. Viren had learned nothing from the elf, not even why the assassin’s hand had been bound in a magical chokehold that Viren and Claudia could not remove. 

Perhaps the assassin had been dying because of something Viren had done, or because of something he had neglected to do, but that was something Viren wasn’t going to apologize for. If the assassin knew of a way to save his arm and life, he had purposefully neglected to inform his captors of it.

There wasn't much Viren could have done for him. He could have tried to cut the elf’s arm off, he supposed. Maybe that would have saved his life. 

In any case, although Viren felt genuinely sorry about great many things right now, he could not bring himself to feel all that bad over the way he had treated his prisoner. The elf had tried to kill Harrow, and his failure to do so had not been for the lack of trying. He was the enemy.

Looking around at the faces in the room, Viren realized there were many present who either did not know who “Rayla’s friend” was, or were hearing about the coin spell for the first time, or both. The expressions around him ranged from curious to confused to mildly horrified.

Explanations were overdue. Viren started with the basics, addressing everyone in the room as he said: “‘Rayla’s friend’ was a Moonshadow Elf assassin, one of those who were sent here to kill King Harrow. Most of the assassins died during their attack, but one - the leader of the group - was taken prisoner. I personally interrogated the head-assassin many times to have him reveal something about his side’s plans, or about the magic mirror. When I showed the mirror to him, he recognized it, and although he refused to tell me what it was, he described it as a ‘fate worse than death’. His reaction is one of the reasons why I am inclined to believe that it was the elves who imprisoned Aaravos in the mirror all those years ago, as an unusually cruel punishment reserved only for the worst of the worse.”

Viren could see on Ezran’s face that the young king was not pleased with what he was hearing, so Viren changed direction a bit: “Alas, I digress. The infraction our king was referring to happened later.

“There was a magical band on the prisoner’s arm, one we could not cut with a blade nor remove with magic, and it grew tighter each passing day. The prisoner refused to explain to us what the band was, or how to remove it, but it was clear that if we did nothing, the elf would soon lose his arm, and the blood poisoning would very likely kill him. We surmised that the band might be a ‘suicide pill’ of sorts, meant to ensure no elven assassin would ever be taken alive, but if it was, it was remarkably slow-acting.”

Viren swallowed, and went on: “We did not know of a way to remove the band, so we could not use it’s removal as a selling point to get the prisoner talking. Promising to cut off his arm in an attempt to save his life was also unlikely to win him over, so mostly we ignored the band. However, since the prisoner was dying, and seemed content with that faith, we had to be... creative, when it came time to make threats. We couldn’t threaten to kill him, so I threatened to do something different instead. When the assassin still refused to answer our questions, I went through with my threat, and used a spell to imprison his essence in a coin.”

Yeah, it probably sounded pretty bad, even to people who had no inexplicable emotional attachment to the captured assassin. Oh well.

Ezran looked sad. “But it can be reversed, right?”

Viren nodded, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. “While in the coin, the subject is alive, sentient, and aware of his surroundings, but he does not require air, food, or sleep. As far as I know, his condition has not become better or worse: it seems the coin spell is powerful enough to halt the magic of the armband. The assassin can be freed from the coin, but if we do, we’ll have another decision ahead of us: either to amputate his arm, or let him die.”

Not to mention it would be incredibly unwise to let out an assassin bent on killing their king, but that wasn’t something Viren had any say in deciding.

“We’re not going to let him die!” Ezran said, horrified.

Viren nodded.

Now that he was thinking things through, Viren wished he hadn’t put the assassin in a coin. It set a bad precedent. What if Ezran told the elves how Viren had treated the prisoner, and the elves decided to be equally ‘experimental’ with any human captives they might be holding? 

Viren wasn’t sure if the elves took prisoners; Thunder certainly hadn’t, and Sunfire Elves tended to be of the same mind, but it was possible that some of the other elves did. Perhaps none had ever managed to escape, and return to tell their side what elven prisons were like.

If the elves had prisoners, letting the elven assassin go - a foolish idea, but probably not beyond the scope of possible where King Ezran was concerned - could spell disaster for said prisoners. That would be in large part Viren’s fault.

Ezran looked thoughtful, and even a bit worried. In that moment, Viren felt a sort of kinship to the boy. Frankly, they were probably not worrying about the same thing, but at least Ezran seemed to finally realize that sometimes, there were no good solutions.

“If we had a dragon here, we could get the armband off of him without resorting to something so awful as an amputation”, Ezran mused out loud.

Viren blinked. Twice. “...You know how to remove the armband?”

Ezran nodded, still looking thoughtful. “Rayla thought she would lose her hand as well, but Zym was able to chew the band off. I’m not sure if all dragons can do that, though, or just Storm Dragons. Since there are no dragons in Katolis right now, maybe we will have to wait a bit before letting him out of the coin. I hate the idea of keeping him in there, I really do, but...”

“Excuse me, but who is this ‘Rayla’?” Queen Aanya asked. It was a new level of insult for her to outright interrupt Ezran, but to be fair, Viren had been tempted to ask the same question, so he didn’t really mind her interruption this time.

Ezran looked surprised. “Oh, she is my friend. She is a Moonshadow Elf, but I got to tell you, they’re nothing like they are described in the stories. She was really nice to me and my brother, and helped us take Zym safely to the border.”

Aanya looked more surprised than Viren had ever seen her. “She is an elf?” the Queen stuttered.

Ezran nodded.

“And not just any elf”, Aanya hazarded. “She was one of the assassins sent to kill your father.”

Ezran nodded again, this time a bit awkwardly, but still.

“And despite this, you trusted her?” Aanya asked, bewildered.

Ezran crossed his arms defensively. “Rayla may be an assassin, but she has never killed anyone. When we showed her the Dragon Prince’s egg, she tried to call off the other assassins, but they would not listen to her. So instead, she sided with me and my brother. She helped and protected me many times during our travels. I mean, she was willing to lose her hand because she couldn’t fulfill her mission! How could anyone doubt her after something like that?”

General Amaya exchanged a worried look with Commander Gren, and asked her nephew: “She ‘couldn’t fulfill her mission’? Are you saying the elves considered their mission to Katolis unsuccessful? Did they realize they had been deceived, and a bird’s soul died in Harrow’s place?”

Ezran looked sad. “...No. Rayla knew our dad had died, because the other armband fell off the night of the attack. Actually, she doesn’t know our dad made it, and nor does Callum.”

Amaya frowned. “Did your ‘friend’ have a different mission then?”

Ezran looked awkward. “Um, no. She had the same mission they all did.”

Amaya’s eyes narrowed in realization and anger. “Two armbands, two targets: who was the other one?”

Ezran looked at his feet. “Well, the elves thought that Thunder  _ and _ his heir had died.”

Amaya gaped, and signed: “You?! You were the other target? But... you are ten!”

“I know, but… Zym hadn’t even hatched yet. His death would have been really unfair  _ too _ ”, Ezran whined.

The elves had had two targets.

At no point had Viren realized the elves had had two intended targets that night. The possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Viren exchanged a look with Harrow, of all birds, and he could tell the King hadn’t thought of it, either. 

If even Viren was shocked by the news, he could only imagine how learning all this made Harrow feel; his son lived, but only because one of the professional assassins had had a change of heart on the last minute. In other words, neither Harrow nor Viren could take any credit for Ezran’s miraculous survival.

In hindsight, they probably should have taken more precautions, instead of simply sending the kids to the winter lodge and assuming they would be fine there. Not that the princes had obeyed that order anyway, so maybe there was little Viren or Harrow could have done to ensure their safety.

Harrow looked mortified, but General Amaya looked angry. Even angrier than she had looked when she broke Viren’s nose. Luckily for Viren, this time her anger seemed to be directed at herself, or possibly at all of elvenkind. It was hard to say for sure.

Regardless, Amaya looked to be trying her hardest to keep her anger in check, probably to spare Ezran from having to argue against her right now.

“This is undoubtedly an important topic to discuss”, Queen Aanya said in a carefully inoffensive tone. “However, it is a topic for another time and place.”

Aanya shared a look with Ezran, and smiled kindly at him. “If King Ezran is convinced that all of Lord Viren’s known crimes have now been listed, and the prisoner has nothing to add about his crimes, or reasons for said crimes, I believe it is soon time to move to the sentencing part of this trial.”

Viren winced, embarrassed that it was a foreign monarch who was left to conclude the hearing, while everyone who actually had power in Katolis was too busy being shocked by their past ineptitudes and lack of communication.

“Yeah”, Ezran said, and sat up a bit straighter on the throne. “Is there anything you want to add?”

Viren wasn’t used to being addressed without any title, but the question was undeniably meant for him, so he replied: “I can’t think of anything to add, your majesty.”

“I have one more question for the prisoner, if I may?” Aanya asked, hesitant. Ezran nodded for her to go on.

Aanya turned her calculative eyes to Viren. Viren realized that he did not know enough about the Queen to know what she wanted to ask. Probably something to do with the smoky assassins, or maybe even Viren’s behavior during the Meeting of the Pentarchy.

“Lady Claudia explained to us about your new magical powers”, Aanya began. “Indeed, witnessing said powers was one of the original reasons we gathered here today. Your daughter seems to be of the mind that there is something fundamentally new and different about the magic you cast here today, but I must admit, I don’t really know enough about magic to appreciate the intricacies of it. The part that concerns me, however, is that Claudia seems to imply that the elf, Aaravos, changed something in you, permanently, to allow you to widen your repertoire of spells.”

Aanya glanced around the room, and commented: “I doubt I am the only one who finds that puzzling, if not downright concerning.”

For a minute, Ezran’s bombshell-revelations had made Viren a spectator at his own trial, but just like that, everyone’s attention was back on him again.

A part of Viren could understand Aanya’s concern: he trusted Claudia to have put nothing but a positive spin on Viren’s sudden primal magic, but the way the Queen had phrased the matter now did make it sound suspect at best and dangerous at worst.

Viren was eager to dispel any such notions, as they were nonsense. At the same time he feared he would not be believed. Viren had only moment ago confessed to great many things, perhaps chief among them that he had terrible judgement on pretty much everything. However, he had to try to set the record straight, even if his words would fall on deaf ears.

“I understand your concern, your grace”, Viren began. “It’s true that I have recently acquired the ability to cast some spells without components, and yes, Aaravos aided me in this new discovery. However, my powers do not come from Aaravos, nor are they tied to him in any way. They’re not proof that Aaravos still holds power over me. Quite the contrary, in fact.”

Viren wanted to explain himself as accurately and specifically as possible, but considering how little most people in the room understood of magic, he also didn’t want his explanation to be too technical, lest it go over their heads. Viren needed to find words that would be explanatory and adequately accurate without sounding like he was trying to confuse anyone.

Viren sighed, and decided to start with the basics. “As you know, some creatures of Xadia, among them elves and dragons, are inherently magical. Many other creatures, such as us humans, are not. Beings that possess an innate connection to one of the six primal sources...”

“We all know this already”, Amaya commented impatiently. “Get to the point.”

Viren smiled a strained smile at her. “The point is: humans have no innate magic, and that is why human mages are dependent on ingredients harvested from magical creatures - or on primal stones or other magical artifacts - to power our spells. For humans, that is the only way. Or so we believed.

“For a long time, we were also under the impression that elf mages can only cast and conjure spells connected to their innate primal - the primal they were born with - but Aaravos revealed to me that both assumptions are wrong, and that the elves have known about this since before the war between us and them begun.”

Viren could tell that he had a captive audience. Relieved, he continued his explanation: “An elf is only born with one primal connection, but it turns out that a dedicated and hardworking elf mage can learn to connect to another primal as well. With enough time and study and patience, it is possible for an elf mage to connect to all six primals. Aaravos himself is living proof of that: he cultivated a connection to all the primals before his kin grew weary of him, locked him in the mirror, and erased any mention of him from written records. 

“I can only assume the elves understood what great power came with this discovery. Yet they feared it rather than welcomed it. They saw the power as dangerous because it shook the status quo that favored them. They asked themselves the right question: if it is possible for an elf to forge a new primal connection, one they were not born with, could it be possible for a human to achieve such a connection?”

Viren took a small break to let his words sink in. He wanted everyone in the room, even the guards, to understand what a game-changer such a revelation would be.

Everyone looked suitably comprehensive. Everyone but Ezran. Viren turned towards the frowning King and asked as politely as he was able to: “Would you like me to repeat something, your majesty, or elaborate on something, perhaps?”

“No”, Ezran said, though he was still frowning. 

Viren bit his lip, and said: “If you don’t believe me, I can provide evidence. Or you can ask any trained mage, and they will tell you that...”

“Oh, nothing like that!” Ezran said. “I believe you. Of course I do. If a human mage really wants to learn magic, but doesn’t want to use dark magic, then they need to think long and hard about it, and if they want it badly enough, it will come to them. I get that.”

Viren did not appreciate how easy and obvious the King made the entire process sound like. To say it was that easy made all the human mages that came before them sound like idiots for not figuring it out. It insinuated that human mages had chosen to focus on dark magic out of preference, rather than it being the only option they had.

However, it was an understandable mistake for a layman to make. Ezran had had no magical training of any kind, nor had he any personal experience with… Wait. How did he know even this much?

It was Viren’s turn to frown. “If I may ask, how does your majesty know so much about the topic?” 

Viren had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would not like the answer.

“Simple”, Ezran answered. “My brother did the same thing. He thought about Sky a lot, like, at least days, and then he was able to cast Sky spells even though he no longer had the primal stone.”

_ ….What? _

Viren could not believe that  _ Prince Callum  _ \- Harrow’s entitled, dithering, irresponsible step-son - had beat him to such a world-shattering revelation about the nature of magic. Prince Callum, who had zero magical training.

However, on second thought, Viren could believe it. Callum’s unbelievable learning curve most likely had everything to with what Callum was.

Viren didn’t know who Callum’s birth father had been, but he was certain the boy’s heritage was not fully human. When Sarai had shown the baby to Viren, it had been clear from his looks - slightly tipped ears, tiny stubs of horns - that the boy was no ordinary child. Sarai had refused to explain the infant’s unusual looks, but she had asked Viren for his help. She’d asked Viren to use his magic to make the child look like a human boy.

Viren hadn’t known what to do. He’d considered telling someone about the situation, but after quite a bit of debating, he’d thought better of it. Viren’s younger self had had a softer heart, and he did not want harm to come to Sarai or her child. It would have been wrong for the mother to pay for the crimes of the father.

Eventually, Viren had agreed to do as the young mother had asked of him, and to keep Sarai’s secret. He’d sworn an oath never tell another soul what he knew of Callum.

Viren had cast a small but very potent and long-lasting glamor on the boy. Over the years, he had repeater the casting a few times for good measure.

At the time Viren had not anticipated having to actually see the child in question so very often. Little did any of them know just how close Sarai and Harrow would grow in just a few years time.

Over the years, Viren had debated with himself if he should tell Harrow the truth - Viren felt like he owed Harrow the truth more than he owed Callum anything - but Viren could not erase the memory of Sarai’s final plea. 

Viren never told people this part of the story, but a moment before her death, Sarai had whispered a final request to him: “Keep my boy safe. Don’t tell anyone about Callum.”

An oath was an oath, and an oath given at deathbed was even more binding. Viren had to keep the secret, not out of loyalty to the boy, but because he owed Sarai as much.

The more Viren thought about what Ezran had just told him, the more it pissed him off that Callum had apparently been the first out of the two of them to stumble upon the greatest discovery since the invention of dark magic. It sounded like Callum hadn’t even needed any help. He must be extremely naturally talented.

Ugh. If Viren hadn’t already known Callum was part elf, he would have guessed it now, based on just how unnaturally easy everything came to the boy.

Even so, questionable heritages aside, it could not be denied that Callum had been born without a primal connection, and that he now had one. Callum might not have been strictly speaking eligible for the title of the First Human to Unlock an Arcanum, but his innate talent and drive still raised a sting of jealousy in Viren.

Not that Viren should be jealous, of course; Callum might have the swift and destructive Sky at his command, but Viren had Earth. 

Viren’s earlier escape attempt had proven that Earth was too slow to be reliably useful in combat; the guards’ surprise, shock and fear, more than anything else, had been what allowed Viren and his children escape unharmed, but such an element of surprise was not something Viren could count on during most battles. Certainly not when fighting elves, who were more at ease around magic. 

That said, in all other areas of use, Earth was clearly the superior pick; versatile and able to produce long-lasting effects, just as Aaravos had promised. What more could Viren ask for?

_ Besides, who knows. Even without Aaravos’ help, I might be able to piece together the other arcanums, given enough time.  _ Viren was certainly motivated to try, now that he knew forging primal connections was possible.

While Viren struggled to keep his amazement and jealousy off his face, King Ezran had turned to have a hushed conversation with his father. Viren assumed that Ezran had already told Harrow about Callum’s new powers. Claudia did not look surprised, either, but based on Queen Aanya’s question, and the stunned look on General Amaya’s face, Viren was not the only one to learn about Callum’s magic just now.

Eventually, Ezran became aware that more people were looking at him than expecting Viren to go on. The King nodded at Queen Aanya, and said: “I guess it is pretty crazy that humans can learn to cast magic the same way elves cast it, but it is definitely real. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

For a brief moment, Viren wondered if he should bring up Callum’s unusual heritage here and now, but quickly decided against it. Not only was he sworn to secrecy, but it would have served little purpose to open his mouth now. Everyone was crossed enough with him as it was without him admitting to even more lies; even to ones that weren’t his own; even when his reasons for having kept the lie were substantial.

Viren turned to look at his kids. Claudia did not look surprised now, so it was hard to say how she had reacted to the news upon first hearing it. Was she happy for Callum? Did it bother her that Callum and Ezran so clearly favored primal magic over dark magic?

Was she as jealous of Callum as Viren was? It was one thing to have your father discover a new way of casting magic, but quite another to have your untrained friend do so, after all.

Viren couldn’t read Claudia’s expression or emotions in that moment. He could only hope that she had taken the news in stride, and if she hadn’t, and something was truly bothering her… they would talk about it, eventually. As soon as a chance provided itself.

“Well”, Queen Aanya said, and turned to make eye contact with Ezran. “That does sound like a big discovery, even to a layman such as myself.”

Viren was able to keep from rolling his eyes when Aanya referred to herself as “a layman”, but only barely.

“I would still like to hear more about the specifics”, she said, and trained her eyes on Viren. “Tell us more about your powers: how do they work, what can they be used for, and most importantly, what limitations are there?”

Viren felt like pointing out that this was off-topic; now that Ezran had vouched on Viren’s behalf that humans could cast primal magic without outside help or influence, the matter was largely irrelevant in relation to Viren’s crimes…

Expect it wasn’t irrelevant to his captors, who would have to keep him in check. Of course! That must be why Aanya wanted to know: she wanted to make sure that the people of Katolis wouldn’t underestimate Viren again and give him another chance to escape.

“Primal casting is… it is not as different from dark magic as one might expect.”

Aanya raised a dubious eyebrow, but she did not interrupt him.

“Dark magic requires years of study and the right ingredients; primal magic requires appropriate conditions and a right state of mind. To excel at dark magic, one needs intelligence and creativity. Primal magic, on the other hand, is tied to the caster’s emotions and determination, but it is also controlled by forces outside the caster’s control. Natural cycles, location and weather play a part. Out of the two, dark magic is more famous for having limitations, but primal magic can’t be cast at willy-nilly, either.”

Viren recognized that he was somewhat downplaying the usability of primal magic, but certainly not by much; most primals seemed to have obvious weaknesses, although if he was being honest with himself, Earth may be an exception to the rule.

“What kinds of spells can you cast?” Aanya asked.

Viren shrugged. “Plant growth, Earthquake, Regeneration…” He nearly added Petrification to the list, but stopped himself in time. Viren was not planning to use that spell, secretly or otherwise, but even just mentioning it would probably make the people present see him as a dangerous liability. 

“I can cast Earth domain spells. There are likely a great number of them, but I only know a handful off the top of my head”, Viren informed Aanya and everyone else in the room. Hopefully, no one had had time to notice his momentary hesitation. 

“If you want a more comprehensive but less specific answer, Earth spells are powered by proximity to deep earth, or to the natural world. Most of them are cast either on dead rocks or on living things. The spells tend to imitate natural phenomenon, but accelerate those phenomenon to act faster or in a more severe manner. Most earth spells are designed to be cast on plants, because animals are complicated and hard to keep still, and solid rock is resistant to change and takes a lot of time and energy to shape.”

Viren wished he could downplay his ability to cast on living things, but considering how he had mere moments ago cast Regeneration on the injured soldier, there seemed little he could say to cover up the obvious: Earth spells could target humans directly.

Queen Aanya nodded at Viren, and turned to address Ezran: “I’m sure the King of Katolis will conduct a more thorough investigation into the matter later, but for now, the prisoner’s answer satisfies my question. That is to say, Duren has no more questions for the prisoner.”

“Oh, cool”, Ezran answered. “I guess we are pretty much done here, then.”

“There are usually closing statements”, Opeli informed everyone in the room, apparently no longer able to keep quiet about protocol. “And then the judge or judges recuse themselves to weigh the evidence one more time before passing judgement.” 

“Oh”, was what Ezran had to say on that. “I guess.”

The boy looked like he was struggling to find the right words. Eventually he settled for: “I want to thank everyone for coming here, and for adding your input.”

Turning to Viren once more: “And for answering all our questions.”

Viren winced, and could not keep from saying: “Don’t thank me.”

To explain himself - and to try and alleviate his rudeness - Viren continued: “You don’t owe me anything, your majesty, and certainly not your gratitude. It is I who am in your debt. You gave me a chance to explain myself, and you had the foresight to see my crimes for what they were: mine and mine alone. I thank you for not condemning my children for the crimes of their father.” 

Viren sighed. “I can see the wrongness and folly of everything I did - to you, to your family, and to Katolis. I would not do it again. That said, I am guilty. There can be no doubt about that, and there are some crimes that are too severe to be forgiven, no matter what. Hence, I resign myself to your judgement.”

Viren bowed.

Ezran looked serious. “Okay. Well, I’m going to next recuse myself now and go somewhere to weigh my options.”

Turning to Opeli: “Am I allowed to take people with me?”

“Yes, your majesty”, Opeli said and bowed. “As many or as few as you’d like.”

Ezran nodded, pondered for a fraction, and then asked his father, Amaya, Gren, Opeli, Corvus and - to Viren’s bewilderment - Queen Aanya to accompany him to the backroom.

Viren thought she could feel shock, or perhaps even indignation, radiating off of Claudia. Had she expected to be invited in? Well, neither of Viren’s children had.


End file.
